It just seems cruel, the dying of the body

As life walks one backwards to complete and utter dependence

And when you start to reap the harvest of your compassions

How you've treated the weak and the poor

How you've taught your people and kin to treat them

It all rises up and fills your purse - or leaves you in debt



It seems wrong, the fading of the flower….

I saw sunflowers hanging their heavy heads - in self-indulgent shame

Thinking they had shown off too much when the sun was high

their heads were ever in its rays

When all they were doing was what they were created to do