like a stone thrown to the silent pond
forever gone it seems
but in it's wake it then creates
a rippled memory

This mortal life on earth is short
we're born we live we die
we are the shooting star that
briefly crossed the nighttime sky

and with each life impressions leave
on every path thus crossed
they loved and warmly hugged our hearts
they're gone and now we're lost

but like the mossy stone arest
the bottom of the pond
although to us our eyes not see
their memory ripples on