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Worry

Worry not about today,

Nor of tomorrow.

For in another day,

Short-lived will be your sorrow.

Time blessed both are

As history they will be,

Presenting another dilemma

For your mind to see.

As you concern yourself of the morrow,

And contemplate the day,

You will see that tomorrow never arrives

Because it becomes Today!

From a song on “Fiddler on the Roof”:

“Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years…

One season following another,

Laden with happiness and tears.”

Worry!

Worry not about today,

Nor of tomorrow.

For in another day,

Short-lived will be your sorrow.

 

Time blessed both are

As history they will be,

Presenting another dilemma

For your mind to see.

 

As you concern yourself of the morrow,

And contemplate the day,

You will see that tomorrow never arrives

Because it becomes Today!

From a song on “Fiddler on the Roof”

“Sunrise, sunset, swiftly fly the years…

One season following another,

Laden with happiness and tears.”

 

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range, Denver, CO

View of Front Range Denver, CO

View of Front Range
Denver, CO

The Eagle Cried

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

Mighty symbol of our country,

Against clear-blue skies,

I looked and beheld

Tears in his eyes.

 

“How did this happen?”

Asked I in dismay —

For Old Glory still waves

From the flagstaff this day.

 

I struggled to look through

His lofty point of view,

To see what he saw

From his high realm of blue.

 

Huge tracts of farmland,

Deserted by man —

Farmers of the soil

Being pushed off their land.

 

Pleasure-seeking people,

All searching in vain,

Rich and the famous,

Fleeting moments of fame.

 

Unnoticed people,

Eyes staring in defeat,

Ignored by society,

Sleeping in the street.

 

Pollution and turmoil,

Boundless in array,

People turning blind eyes,

Living for the day.

 

High-rise buildings,

Boredom and despair,

Decaying old cities,

Streets needing repair.

 

A God-fearing people,

Many gone astray.

Old-fashioned virtues

No longer hold sway.

 

Turning away in sorrow,

I shrugged, then sighed,

For it was so plain to see

Why our eagle had cried.

 

Final Metamorphosis

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

I’m soaring now,

All is well.

As I glance down

On a worn-out shell.

I hear moans and crying.

What’s it all about?

Everyone wants to weep,

Yet I wish to shout.

Inside, looking out,

Now I’m outside looking in.

Bright, fresh beginning,

Freedom without end.

No more headaches

Or pain exist here.

Fresh new world,

Full of laughter and cheer.

Over the old earthly cocoon

You weep and moan,

But transfiguration is complete —

The butterfly has flown.

Spirit form unfettered,

At last completely free,

So why all the sorrow?

At last, “I am free!”

The Entity

This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Brighter than a falling meteor,

Shorter than an excited breath,

More fleeting than a passing moment,

Faster than a bolt of lightning.

 

Colder than a frigid arctic blast,

Higher than an eye straining cloud,

Softer than wind-blown thistledown,

Harder than the hardest diamond.

 

This entity comes quietly, yet quickly.

Lingers softly, burns hotly, turns cold

And leaves faster than it came.

 

Having brought joy with its arrival,

It now leaves sorrow in its wake.

 

Not to know it brings emptiness,

And to know it brings joy and bittersweet memories!

 

Such is this thing known throughout the world as Love…

And stranger still — no one can define it.

 

Happiness and Sorrow

This thought comes from Autumn Leaves:

 

Happiness is sought after before sorrow.

Laughter is sought after before crying.

Those who appreciate happiness and laughter most

Are those who have shed many tears through sorrow.

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