Throughout our mortal lives,

We come across strange things,

No one person is a replica,

Every experience is different.

From Birth to Death,

Between these old friends,

We find vast treasures,

Treasures that shame gold.

No, do not ask, I will not answer.

I cannot tell you what they are,

What they mean, or what they do,

Only of their sure existence.

We all are open to these objects,

And we can all acquire them,

The simple thing is, then,

To appreciate them.

Some men see this,

And stand agape in awe,

Forever to wonder,

“Why can’t this be mine?”

Some men do not recognize,

The beauty which stands before ‘em,

Forever to ignore the meaning of life,

As they walk past it every day.

Then there are men, oh wise men,

Who see the beauty and know it,

They appreciate it and love it;

They are the happy ones.

From Birth to Death,

Between these old friends,

I pray you see the beauty,

And with it, you are wise.