The clouds have gathered overhead,
And yet it doesn’t rain;
The dreadful drought prevails, instead,
Throughout the garden plane.
You carry water in a can
To keep your plants alive,
And yet you’re just a single man,
So only some survive.
You’re not as grieved by that as such
As once you would have thought;
Although you like them very much
And know the joy they’ve brought,
You sense you’ll soon be moving on,
And your achievements shall be gone.
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash
Mortality
