Two, 2, Minutes More with You
We are early for school drop off
Twelve years has past
Like yesterday we walked together holding hands, jumping in puddles
Now, well on his way in all different great directions in life
Oh, I don’t mind waiting with you
Two, 2, minutes more with you
Thoughts of our early lives together
Our children from birth to now
Seeing you now with your own family,
careers, homes and kids young to pre-teen, and teens
Oh how we long, yearn for, desire
Two, 2, minutes more with you
Thoughts of those we love and loved and now gone before us
The example, drive, hopefulness, sparkle in the eye of joy
What we feared was gone with their brief life, even 100 years is a brief life,
Lives on in those we see before us this day and every day we have on earth
Yet it gets me thinking deeply- how I pine for, cry out for, and dream of
Two, 2, minutes more with you
I write this down
for the next generation to [pause]
To lift up one another as we wait- for the dream, for the job, for the dx, for the answers, the clarity
So as we see the plan unfold, more beautifully than we could’ve created ourselves,
We will praise the Eternal,
and the next, and the next generation will see the value,
and what ancestors held to heart
The most important thing in this brief, fleeting life is always and forever and shall be
Two, 2, More Minutes More with You!
About this poem: Two, 2, Minutes More with You is a poem about this brief, fleeting life and how we would give anything to spend more time together even two minutes waiting for a drop off at school.
[We get to hear your voice. We get to see the sparkle in your eye, and hope in your actions to a better future together!]
Long after you and I are gone, those to come after us will remember and follow hard after God, family, and getting all out of life possible for their good and the good of others!
- Joe and Jayne Holuta
“Write this down for the next generation
so people not yet born will praise God:”
Psalm 102:18 (message)
“It you have a friend who is struggling, come close and enter the messiness of their pain.”- Vaneetha Risner
SLOW-
