G.R. Gaus (April 11 1950 / St. Louis)
Nothing for Granted
The gift of life, easily overlooked,
Or a softly chosen word,
Slowly becoming so overbooked?
Our vision’s slightly blurred.
Smiles can light the darkest place,
Laughter much more power,
Ever changing a saddened face,
Tender blooming of a flower.
A thank you thrown at leisure,
For a stranger in the crowd,
A small slight hidden treasure,
Spoken firmly, it is allowed.
A chance to live another day,
Skipping stones across the water,
Remembering what it is to play,
How a father loves his daughter.
Loving kindness for one another,
Hand in hand across the land,
Respect for the feminine mother,
Her resources forever withstand.
A quiet place by water’s edge,
Peacefully content in being alone,
Trees forming and ancient hedge,
Simple pleasure in creating a home.
The gift of life, taken for granted,
Real-Eyes, it’s never too late,
Water and soil, deeply planted,
Seeds sown wisely while we wait.
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