As   the   shadows   lengthen   on   the   sleeping   tree
Nor   you   nor   I   know   what   the   morrow'll   be,
Bear   with   me   –   this   verse'll   the   chapter   close
Indulge   one   last   time   a   poet's   fancy.

Sentiments   that   sealed   lips   did   not   betray,
Words   that   I   oft   was   afraid   to   say,
Fearing   Youth's   headiness   would   make   you   scoff,
Storm   past   the   barriers   –   laugh   if   you   may.

When   away   you've   been   in   a   distant   land,
Life's   dusk   is   drawing   near   close   at   hand,
These   words   may   yet   another   Dawn   reveal,
Another   morrow   help   a   night's   gloom   transcend.

You're   young   now,   life's   tide   is   at   the   peak,
Each   prayer   grants   you   just what      you   seek,
One   day   with   effort   will   their   joints   unfold
Fingers   –   that   with   grace   stroke   your   cheek.

If   at times  you're   alone   and   feeling   scared,
Pretences   stripped   and   reality   bared,
No   force   will   then   dare   you   to   touch,
If   you   for   others   too   have   cared.

Remember   when   you   walk   a   lonely   way,
A   helping   hand   on   a   stumbling   traveler   lay,
Pass   not   by   with   disdain   –   In   tolerance   grow,
Nor   let   your   smile   another's   faith   betray.

Look   around   you   –   There's   lots   yet   to   feel,
Bleeding   wounds   that   bleed,   no   balm   can   heal,
Stop   awhile   --   could   not   these   wounds   be   yours?
With   gentle   touch   the   flow   seek   to   seal.

Dead   souls,   spirits   about   to   break
Lost,   groping,   unsure   what   to   make
Of   life- you'll   meet   them   oft   enough
For   the   blind   a   little   sight   forsake.

In   your   journey   will   you   shed   a   tear,
Seeing   old   men   a   youthful   burden   bear   ?
Smile,   waking   to   a   bird's   carefree   “Hullo”
Break   down   the   walls   Nature's   song   to   hear.

Let   your   senses   wake   and   your   heart   be   free,
Smell   the   rose   when   others   the   thorns   can   see,
Seek   not   to   quench   the   passionate   fires   of   life,­
Behind   flashing   flames   though   dying   embers   be.

Perchance   the   day   will   come,   I   do   not   know,
In   casual   encounter   we'll   say   “Hullo”
And   turn   away   our   separate   paths   to   walk,
Estranged   by   Time's   rushing   flow.

I'll   see   you   then   as   when     I   write,
And   wonder   if   what   I   wrote   was   right,
Tho'   poets   are   fools   ,  captives   of   their   senses,
Their   words,   like   stars,   diffuse   the   night.

My   pen   has   writ   what   I   could   not   say,
Cherish   my   words   --   do   what   you   may,
My   solace   is   I claimed the right
To share with you some thoughts tonight.