Sunday, December 27, 2009


As the cold of snow,
Without a melting stream,
Produces only a fog,
Between life and a dream.

From the clay of youth,
To the specter of age,
Swim in the now,
In the know, this stage.

As what is new does not mean better,
Old has no necessary wisdom to give.
There is but one universal truth:
You have this life, note well, and live.  


Lady Baker said...

Lovely :)
I've been saving it and just linked to it on my blog :)

Lynne said...

Thanks - for the compliment and the link.