This is the last time I’ll look out at a black and endless sky through these eyes of mine.
Tomorrow will be different; all will change, as it ever does.

My eyes will no longer be my own.
They’ll belong to another man.
My borrowed window to the world will pass to him.

Never in back-to-back nights has the same perspective been aimed t’wards heaven.
Each day at dusk a new man climbs these rocky steps.
And Each evening, with a vague sense of familiarity, does he see God for the first time.

Knowing this, I cherish my view.
For soon is my time to die,
And to awaken the next man to fill my shoes.

We each receive our one moment under the stars.
And tonight I am nothing but grateful.