If you should chance to pass this way
one day when I am gone,
the pause you make will bring to life
the man who wrote this song.
Forever frugal with his love,
he locked it into words.
Oh, do not make the same mistake,
give yours away to birds.
Although they be ephemeral,
they sing with all their heart,
and other birds take up the song
soon after they depart.
For life is in the blossoming,
the wise let it unfold
without much thought for future wealth.
The present tense is gold.
And yet perhaps in reading me,
you'll find a common bond
with one who valued solitude
beside the moonlit pond.
The fact you paused from life awhile
to dip into this tome,
suggests the linking of two souls
in other ways alone.
Some words become immortal,
a lonely state at best,
so when you've read these, burn them
and let them lie at rest.
Then go out and live your life,
and free yourself from care.
You once were earth, again will be.
Enjoy your breath of air.
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