Closing the Curtain

                             Closing the Curtain

When the final performance is over
         the flowers lie trampled on the floor
         and dusty trophies from the past
         are stacked to be looked at no more

         When friends have said their last good-byes
                   no more are curtain calls heard
                   and program and playbook are cast aside
                             what then shall be our guide?
How does this all happen
         when the last curtain descends
         and the shroud of ending time
         place its fingers around our soul

         For our play has never ended before
                   the stage was ever lit
                   and the actors one and all
                             performed without a script
But now the footlights are dimming
         the houselights shuttered and cold

         But I think…Yes!
                   There is yet a curtain rising
                             and its stage is made of gold!