State of being

A century from now,
one fine morning,
if it will be the same sky
above us, if the same Atlantic
will still be roaring in anger 
at night, as the high flying 
intercontinental flights ignore
its might. If the same duties
and obligations do not leave us 
to say all that we want to say.
If, while you will be shivering in the 
blistering cold, looking at the piled
up snow in your driveway,
Or, if an occasional hurricane wil
still be flooding your basement and making
you wonder if all those paintings will
be caught by the humid air surrounding
the County, and I will be wiping the
bids of sweat forming on my forehead.
And if you and I remember all that were
spoken and felt a century ago, 
Then you will find me at your doorsteps,
and ask for your hands for as many
lives as we will be granted by God?"