Make the Most of It
We come we go before we know
And we hardly have a chance to
Turn around as sunflowers grow
Toward the light as we advance to
The coming come-what-may each day
And the tune which we must dance to
We rush yet let us not forget
To see the sights along the way
Hurry yet need not let worry
Prevent us from being lovers
Of love itself of each other
Every sister every brother
(As the angel of death hovers)
Impatient fate will never wait
Yet let us make the most of it
To our mutual benefit
Loving dearly seeing clearly
That though life can feel so very
Real: it is just temporary
+Steven Curtis Lance
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