As I am now, so too you yet shall be—
Child of life and vigor that knows no bounds;
Time is mendacious and all eyes shall see,
That beauty is a gift that time confounds.
So make the most of your brief given span
Before that covetous userer calls his loan;
Wring from each day, all sweetness that you can-
The deathbed is the place we should atone.
Then look upon each morning as a gift,
Whether it dawns in brilliance or in gloom;
Each breath, the air that gives your wings their lift,
On sliver pinions, o’er wide worlds to roam;
And when returned to search these aging eyes,
Look for those truths that jealous Time has tried.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.