How endearingly the flowers are held
In the arms of the nurturing soil;
Yet I'm condemned to walk without Love,
Wearied and spent by this hopeless toil

Confined behind bars of loneliness
I observe Love running wild and free;
What crime could warrant such punishment?
Even Hell knows no such agony

As the newborn babe that cannot speak
Cries out helplessly for what it needs,
So I cry for a harvest not granted,
. . . I cry for the unplanted seeds

And will Love's words remain unspoken?
Now the waves of Terror rise and fall!
Shall my heart stay an idle harbor . . .
Unworthy to be Love's port of call?

Live for today, just ignore tomorrow.
Why worry what the future may bring?
Nor dwell on a past that harbors sorrow.
For this day alone let the bells ring

While the hummingbird's feasting on nectar,
She's not concerned about foolish things ---
Tomorrow's plights don't seem to affect her
As she savors the gifts this day brings

So for every pleasure life sends your way,
Ring the bells and declare to the world
Those joyous moments that brightened your day.
(Who knows when Fate's wrath might be unfurled!)

And when Fate comes to sate its dark desire,
Grasp Fortitude's lyre and gently strum,
For while the dove sings with the sylvan choir,
Misery draws near, beating its drum

But mute that drum with hymns of gratitude ---
(Does the sun not always vanquish night?)
Tally the blessings this day has accrued . . .
Then let the bells ring with wild delight!

Such loneliness permeates my days,
No one seems to notice I exist;
I'm as transparent as the sun's first rays
Intermingling with the morning mist

I'm as obscure as a grain of sand
Clinging to the ocean's lonely shore;
Should a wild wind fling me to some strange land,
Who would notice that I'm here no more?

Has my frame decayed and turned to dust
And my restless spirit unaware
That I'm just a ghost tumbling in a gust
Of the pitiful wind of despair?

Too long I've haunted this lonely sphere
Where it seems no one's aware of me;
Let there be a soft whispering in my ear:
"Claim your peace, dear soul, you've been set free"

And how eager I'd be to depart
From this cruel world I've come to deplore!
Yet, if love would lay its hands on my heart . . .
I'd consider staying a few years more

A poor wingless bee in dire torment
Sat brooding beneath the lemon bower:
"How shall I ever know the rose's scent,
And sample the sweet nectar of her flower?"

"And what value do you place on these?"
Asked a wise old bee perched on a stone;
Suddenly there appeared a swarm of bees,
Eager to hear the wisdom of the drone

Cried the wingless bee: "My days are drear,
Longing for the rose's scented dew;
Without wings how can I hope to draw near?
How I thirst for her . . . if only she knew!"

"Climb, my lad," advised the wise old bee.
"Brave the stinging thorns and twisted vine.
Only through courage and tenacity
Will you savor the bliss of her sweet wine"

O, what angst now stirred within the bee
As he scaled that stem toward the sublime!
But what delicious hospitality
Awaited him . . . because he dared to climb!

I put my mind at ease,
     banishing all things vile,
What good are memories
     that don't inspire a smile?

But now and then my heart
     forgets to lock the door,
And when the portals part,
     he's standing there once more

Of course, I can't deny
     him entry --- I'm too weak,
And yes, I know I'll cry
     with every lie he'll speak

It seems I never learned
     to let go of his hand,
Not all bridges were burned,
      love's flame might yet be fanned

O, foolish heart of mine,
     the truth is plain to see:
When love makes one resign
      itself to misery,
And every sleepless night
      is caused by love's deceit,
Can you ignore the Light
      of Truth there at your feet?

The time is long past due
      to set his memory free,
Let love's promise renew,
      let all sad feelings flee

Prepare the burial shroud,
      ensure the grave is deep,
Grieve one last time aloud . . .
     Now let the demons sleep!

I dreamed tears were flowing from my heart's core,
And my head was bowed low in prayer,
An angel appeared, saying "Weep no more,
Come and find relief from your despair."
Smiling, he pointed to a golden door . .
So I entered,  but no one was there

Then I found myself seated 'neath a tree
Staring up at a cloud-filled sky;
I pondered mankind's state of misery,
And I couldn't help but question "Why?"
And that angel just stood there silently,
With an expression that made me cry

As if this were not enough pain to bear,
I found myself on paths well trod --
One marked Loneliness, the other Despair,
While Fate scowled with an approving nod;
(Better to blame Fate than unanswered prayer
And all the failed responses from God)

Attempting to wake myself from this dream,
From my lips there escaped a moan.
Then the angel said "Praised be the Supreme,
To whom all man's miseries are known"
And all heaven bowed (which seemed quite extreme
Since no one was seated on the throne)

As in most dreams nothing was making sense ---
Prayers drifting on a murky stream,
Frustration and doubt growing more intense.
"Lord, show thyself," I cried with a scream.
But the angel warned "Seek no evidence!"
And I realized  . . .  this was no dream

My body is frail . . . I'm growing old,
Each step is accompanied by groans;
My hands and feet are constantly cold . . .
But my heart aches much more than my bones

I squint when I witness dawn's first light
When all of nature in gold is trimmed;
My eyes are no longer clear and bright,
But the flame of love has never dimmed

Time has taken its toll on this frame,
The roseate glow has left my face;
All those youthful passions have grown tame,
Yet, I'd still welcome a warm embrace

More important now are simpler things --
Like companionship and loving smiles,
All the joy that togetherness brings,
Someone with whom I can share life's trials

It's a bit late to make long-term plans,
So I'll settle for a hand to hold,
And a lonely man who understands
The blessings of love as we grow old