Two little girls

Two little girls went out for a walk
in the chilly autumn air,
and they gathered handfuls of leaves as they talked,
and the leaves were as gold as their hair.
They followed the path that cut through the park
and wound with a slow little creek.
They never minded the frost on the bark
or the cold wind that bit at their cheeks.
They fed the ducks leaves from the withering trees,
but the ducks didn’t seem to care
I said with a sigh that ducks didn’t eat leaves,
but the girls only wanted to share.


Too often my search for meaning
discourages rather than fuels me.
I’m too focused on theme to enjoy novels
and too focused on purpose to enjoy life –
but for those rare moments when the world shrinks
and exists only in my arms or the walls of my home,
babbling, exploring, and grinning up at me.
Then I’m no longer searching,
either because I’m distracted or
because I am reminded.

Oh life!

Oh life! Great radiance!
Profoundest, happy Spring!
The brightest, deepest, truest greens
And living, breathing, permanence!
Ah, how I’ve loved your brilliant rays,
And grown in your ‘bounding sunshine!
Oh beautiful, bright Springtime,
How lasting felt the days!
How permanent the happy memories!
How vivid in my mind!
How I loved!
And lost the time.
Oh, how suddenly the warm breeze
Of life’s Springtime passes by.