by Ottersong
© 1999 Ottersong, all rights reserved
Our trek through life,
though day by day,
sets tasks for us
to mark out way.
Our tools are few-
two hands, one heart-
to grow the food
and free the art.
To plow the earth
and sow the seed,
to bend one's back
tho' hands may bleed.
To bear the babes
and love them well,
to guide their paths
and hard fears quell.
To lend a hand
to one in need-
to right the wrongs
'til all are freed.
To sing a song,
to paint a sky,
to sculpt and carve-
please ear and eye.
To guard our Earth
and love all life,
to hold the tide
of war and strife.
To speak to friends
and hear their need,
to read lost eyes
with pleas to heed.
To hew a path,
to find a voice
to let you know
you have a choice.
To have one day
and live it well,
to give one's best
with grace - in hell.
To rise and go
to meet one's fate,
to use one's all
when less may sate.
When all is done
we go to rest
and hope like hell
we've done our best.