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March 1st, 2023 
Awake Goy 
In my youth the years crept by like a low speed freight train-
In my old age the years flash by like the fleeting flash of a jet airplane-
My wavy brown hair has turned a salt and pepper gray-
I groan with stiff bones and several pains as I rise to face each day-
The wonder of discovering new things with each changing season-
Is replaced with trying to keep the trials of aches and pains at bay and within reason-
As the unavoidable date with death grows daily more near-
The sweeter the sound of the song bird and a child’s laugh grows dear-
I feel my ancestors with their shields, swords and cloaks are getting dressed-
So when they meet me on the other side they can look their best-
There is no fear of dying as my life and soul in God’s hands are-
I shall return again young with vigor, sharp of eyes which can see clear and far-
Oh death where is thy sting, oh grave where is thy victory in this plan-
Without the sting of death the victory of the grave could not come to man-
The baby grows to youth, the youth grows to adulthood, the adult becomes old and full of pains-
The oldster greets death as a dear friend, the grave sets the soul free from the body’s chains-
The Ole Dog!
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