Heartstrings, Dreamsongs: A Book of Poetry

Mourn Here for others Yet, Cry My Friend

Oh dear soul, how you mourn!

It was just yesterday you were born!

But yet in misery you are torn,

Between the right which is forlorn,

And the wrong which is sworn,

Against that which is warm.

So warn yourself of the danger here,

But don’t give in to your fear,

And feel forever at your nadir,

And to the good you must adhere,

But let it go and be sincere,

Face yourself in the mirror.

You are a face among many others

And the human race are all your sisters,

But each one of the unique teachers,

For aren’t we all teachers as much as wishers?

We are learning in finder’s keepers,

But that truly is what creates mislead brothers.

So do not regret that which is not yet,

There are many forces to destroy, including regret,

And you are young still, younger than you know I’d bet.

But youth is merely a subset,

Of the requirement, faith beget,

Ask yourself questions with which we are met.

Oh youthful face, how you cry!

Not one of my words is a lie,

I can promise you, all will die,

But now is the time to live and fly.

Do not fear the future sky,

Do not ask me ‘why.’

 

Simply live, dearest friend,

Your youth has yet to end.

If you’re not dead yet, then wishes send

To friends near and far, and relationships mend.

You are young, despite being old; let me amend:

It is only fear that you need contend.

I may not say it clear and bright,

But you have always walked in light.

You are young, you only feel like night,

For youth is a birthright,

And that never leaves, increasing age despite.

May your joy at last forever ignite.