I'm afraid of the black hole I sense looming before me. I can't even see it yet, but I know that it's lurking, just around a few bends in the road. My steps are reluctant and weighted. I want each day to be as long as it can, to turn the hourglass back.
In spite of my fear, I want to go on. I know what's ahead will be good, though not easy. I might need even more strength than it takes for me to keep my feet on the path right now. I feel hands holding me and lifting me. I will keep holding those hands and they will not let go.