I aspire not
to be the bright star
it would be too pervasive
and watched by the world entire-
I would no longer be
my own but an ornament
courting displeasure
and arousing discontentment.

How I prefer just to be
a blade of grass hidden
from common view
unknown and never be spoken
of-- just among my peers
welcoming every drop of the early dew
blessed by the rays of the sun
with each dawn I myself renew.

How sad and despondent is the world
joys, wonder and beauty are espoused by so few
the striving, the craving and the in-fighting
to the path of happiness too many have no clue-
where's the splendour of living and loving?
from doom and gloom do we know how to eschew?
do we choose to shut out the world from our desolate room
or to sing and dance beneath the sky benign and blue?