Wearing the weeping willows by the waterside. Mourning over youth in these twilight times: troubles times. Morning over, daytime too. Quick comes the evening of one's life. In one's youth one anticipates and with little patience waits upon the coming of one's prime. So comfortably unaware of how life's vigour culminates as one clambers to the apex of this climb. And, once it's reached, how soon the urge to age abates. with the growing awareness of passing time. Oh, the price of wisdom! A full life takes its toll as the unknown weights upon one's spirits once sublime. And so begins the slipping of the frantic gripping to Memory-Mountain's slopes that seem to turn to slime. Watch the water running fast - coming closer, then passing by. Disappearing into horizons far where lowly land meets heavenly sky. Reflected in the Sentimental-Stream is a world so topsy-turvy where smiles and sorrows abide side by side. Like the ebb and flow that forever come and go : turning tides to each other inextricably tied. Repeating cycles as the unwinding wheels-within-wheels of the whelk - unfolding from a point deep inside. Great whirly-gig of time so surely wholly hurly-burly - this mysterious merry-go-round ensures a giddy ride. Don't be bent to brood if the answers tend to elude with tacit truths that play You-seek-We-hide. I ween one day we'll wane just like a fading moon, our waters to enter the skies again. Then some day drain and like confetti into reflections strewn at the marriage of the reservoir and rain. And those whom in our paths may walk - those we leave behind - in those fond reflections will carry us in heart and mind. The essence from our spirits will forever follow, and linger rife as the waters which leave our bodies hollow. So fill up your cup to overflow, and remember us in the waters of life when through your lives you go. Flow on, flow on, river of time. Go on, go on descendant to reach your prime. Drink up the waters so sublime! Then remember! Remember me when you begin to fade, and let my notes on life just once more chime. For, as your sun begins to set, it will dawn on you - the reason in the rhyme. |