What a huge span of adventures can be
Had in such a short span of one lifetime.
At least to he who takes interest in every thing he
Has the eye to see what time, chance and signs
Are perpetually holding out as he journeys
On his way. Missing nothing that he can
Fairly lay his hands upon, rather than

Creating an essay of human nature, or an experiment of the senses
Which always manages to put the blood to sleep.
I pity the man that can follow me around intensely
Only to argue and cry that all around us is barren as he weeps.
And by his own omission – so it is for him – he who may say
He will not cultivate the fruit that is all around him.
I get up clapping my hands declaring cheerily that this is MY day!

And some days I do find out how the day shall
Call out all of my affections -something I could never do alone.
Sunny or cloudy, rainy or snowy – it makes no difference at all -
I fasten on the day like a helmet and seek out something to bring home -
Is it here – Is it there? Is it me – Is it you?
So if I fail to get out of the rain once in while
Just say that I strapped on a wet, rainy day and a smile.