Mystery of Life



With age, I am failing,
My body is ailing,
Soon, I will cease to be,
Except for my spirit,
For, from what I hear, it
Might outlive mortal me;
And if this isn't so,
Surely, I'll never know -
It's such a mystery!
I remember, at first,
How, for knowlledge, I'd thirst,
Reading studiously,
Hoping that I would find,
Utilizing my mind,
Answers to set me free.
I see now there's no chance
I will shed ignorance,
I've found humility.
Still, I like to pretend
That this life has no end,
And tithe religiously.



By Richard McCusker (rmrickmack@aol.com)









 









Spring at the Greenhouse (Slideshow)

Dear Spring

Spring Flowers

Left Behind

Thinking Green (several writers)

Found Among Her Things

Pussywillow

Old Memories and Young Hopes



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