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The blue sea’s salt, a mountain’s vault.
These are things I like to ponder.
The desert’s snow, a monkey’s toe.
To make my mild mind wander.

But there comes a time I cannot rhyme.
I lie in my bed and wonder.
If there is a life after this life
to which my soul can saunter.

For windy days of weary ways
Cast a shade of dimness.
But is it just the lack of know
That drives my state of business?

Some may sing while others eat;
The birds forever flapping.
Oh, but nature finds a way
To loop its gentle rapping.