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Time passes.
August blends into September.
October chills to November.
The new year fades into February,
And time passes.
Two weeks. Six weeks.
Before it seems possible,
Six months.
Time becomes
Irrelevant
As the drudgery of one day
Upon the next is heaped.
Soon life is done.
Then comes
The laying down
Of burdens
And the forgetting
Of temporal worries.
All that a man does
Gathers dust
In the oblivion of time.
Some men grow roots
Deep into one place upon the earth
And become
As great trees.
Others wander
From place to place
Like the meandering river.
All face a common end.
The oldest tree
Sooner or later falls,
To decay upon the earth
From which it sprang.
The proudest river
Runs its treacherous course
Only to be polluted
By the salt sea.
What today is
A burning desire
Is tomorrow's foolish dream.
What now seems essential
Will later be useless.
A man strives
For immortality and fame,
Only to end his days
In a box,
Planted in the earth
From which also he sprang.
I have seen all the works
Done under the sun
And behold,
All is vanity
And vexation of spirit.
Who,
Of all the great or noble
Fathers of our land,
Lives today
To counsel
With the wisdom of centuries?
Alas! Alas!
They are all
Dead men's bones.
Who,
Of the great or noble
Or wise of this age,
Will counsel those
Who live centuries hence?
Each of us,
In all our undertakings,
Considers the matters of our lives
To be
Of utmost importance.
I consider
The profundity of my words;
You may be immersed
In legal, financial
Or social complexities.
To what avail?
For me, to none;
For you, no more than that.
We gather options
As a squirrel gathers nuts;
Today's acorn
Is tomorrow's feces.
Why race we hither and yon
In search
Of some indefineable
Happiness or fulfillment?
To love all is all.
The fountain of discontent
Springs
From a hungry soul.
Displeasure
Is self-perpetuating.
Peace is joy
And joy is love.
Time passes.
Joy turns to sorrow,
And sorrow again to joy.
Life is a cycle
Wherein we plan,
And then often live
To see
The folly
Of that which was
So carefully construed.
One race of men
Mocks another,
And is mocked
By still another;
One man mocks another,
And is mocked by many.
Spite begets distress.
Vengeance is sown;
Frustration is reaped.
Hate is planted;
Unhappiness is harvested.
Pride is broadcast;
Humility is gathered.
Love is shared;
Joy returns.
Warmth is given;
Happiness received.
We spend our hatred
To buy bitterness.
We invest our love
To receive
The increase of peace.
When all is said
And done,
We are remembered more
For the evil
Which we have done
Than for the good.
I pray to be
Soon forgotten.
Yet if some good
From my meanderings
Should come,
I hope that it will live
As a balm
For some unhappy soul.
When I have died,
And mingled with the earth
Anew,
I yet will live
to see a brighter day.
When the strife
Of mortal life is done,
A better life
Will only have begun.
Take heart! Take heart!
The just shall live
By faith!
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