When like a rock on a cold mountain top,
Or a frog leaping non-stop;
You are merely a tiny blob;
Nobody really cares if you are a flop!
When like a flower blooming on a tree,
Or a creeper climbing up the sun to see;
You cherish the moments you are free;
Happy as a bumble bee!
What are you here for my dear fellow?
Age has made you O so mellow.
No more can you fly like a swallow;
Wither shall you follow?
Those around you depart one by one;
To the Father returns the son!
Some battles you have won;
The final fight is yet to be done!
Your time is yet to come;
It came already for some!
You wait your turn ever so calm,
Like a frail coconut palm.
Do you look back in joy or in pain?
Have you lost or have you gained?
Has life been fruitful or in vain?
Is it pure and white or full of stains?
As owls hoot their mournful songs,
Begins the dusk leading to night so long!
This life once it is gone,
Fades away like a winter storm!
As the rock resists the cold winds,
The spider a new web spins.
Live life so that you can win,
When death bells toll their last din!
When fire your bones devour,
This then is your final hour.
Where then is all your power?
Gone so quickly like an April shower!
What is left is what’s in people’s mind.
Will they think cruel or kind?
What you did is what they find;
They were not to your deeds blind.
So like the rock up on the mountain top,
Like frogs from tree to tree hop;
Do they care about you non-stop;
Or when you die, it is just a fullstop?