You don’t have to buy the land
to own the changing landscape
Whose vista priceless yours inside
to live in mortgage free

Or fly a rocket toward the sun
to view each day’s horizon
That comes and goes both East and West
in transitory joy

You don’t have to buy a car
to travel to tomorrow
New pathways wait beyond conveyance
old footsteps in the sand

Or buy a boat and sail the seas
to hear the ocean’s roar
The transience of each crashing wave
— a gift unwrapping free

(Ronald McDonald House: August, 2025)