Some day it won’t be a mystery.
I will run through the grass and over the hills
And begin my own history.
It won’t be today- I’m too small now-
But I will find out what’s behind those chain links,
And where the sun goes when it’s down.
My fingers clutch this barrier tight;
I pull it and shake it, a clashing of wills.
Defeated again, a lost fight.
It’s the future that I want to see.
What happens to this world, what good and what ill?
And what is stored up there for me?
I watched and saw my life with new eyes:
A forgotten petal fell from the flower,
Dead and wilted, so there it lies.
Our lives– they are just one shallow breath.
Our moments, years pass by in one short hour,
Then they are gone, replaced by death.
Soon through the grass and over the hills
Will seem to be just a passing dream, I think
As I sit through evening’s still.