HARVEST


When our teeth begin to fall out
And our hair is gray and thin,
When memories deceive us
We're the best we've never been;

When time is lost in tatters
And a sprightly gait is gone,
And remnants of a vital wit
Are all that linger on ...

Is that the best occasion
We can think of to begin
To think of deeper things
Than breathing out and breathing in,

To pause or ponder finally
When living's ebb is near
And grant the soul an audience
No lazy past could hear?

Is that the time we best could choose
To shoulder weighty theme,
When ours are at their weakest then
And growing ever lean;

Or do we owe a diligence
In all the younger years
To plow the field of fertile thought
And nourish constant seeds
In order not to end the day
With harvest but of weeds?