It's when we think we've found the thing we love we're lost.
That's when we find we cannot help but love the lost.
Shadows fall on graveyard frost. They are cast by thoughts
that hover in the sunlight, far above the lost.
You ask me what I think? My mind is full of ghosts.
Thinking of the future means thinking of the lost.
Sunk cost; overhead cost; opportunity cost;
we say "never again," but it's as much as lost.
Glory? Or regret? They're the change that we have left
when we've paid and counted what we've gained, what we've lost.
Our maps can only show us all the lines we've crossed,
like trying to count back our steps. They prove we're lost.
Horizons are the reasons for all that we've sought.
None ever leave Eden. There, what's discovered's lost.
Autumn with its crisping leaves is when life is best.
It's on the cusp we value most what must be lost.
We honor God when we embrace the chance to love;
a gift we live to give away, so nothing's lost.
--Timothy Sandefur is an attorney and author in Phoenix, Arizona.