With sharp eyes and dark hair,
And a heart that thirsts for love,
Purpose was a quest and treasure to find,
Amidst a sea of souls,
Learning something from each one,
Teaching something along the way,
Making a difference or so I thought,
For the world is unchanged every day.
With vision weakened and hair gray,
Wisdom has replaced joy,
The world walks past me as I write,
The sun rising as it did before,
The thrill of the quest is no more,
Knowing the day approaches faster,
Where silence will replace my prattle,
As the sun rises over another nameless stone.
I believe that God gave me good seeds,
I went forth planting many seeds with love,
Now as the planter I must have faith,
Though most seeds I will never see grow,
I know they must grow because I planted well,
Not upon the stones but in good soil,
So that they may bear fruit for other souls,
Which came through my tired hands.
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