Poem: Precious

How precious is life and sad when it’s gone
Like a newborn baby, like a growing fawn
Both fragile and strong, powerful and weak
Focused on expansion, on leaping peak to peak

Lions and Buddhas, pagodas and blossoms
Mailboxes and country roads, knotweed warnings and barn stalls
I run through the rain as limbo defines my life
My mind constantly working on ways and means to cut through the strife

Long winding roads beckon me
Rain-soaked wilderness lures me
Stardust falling to the earth
Ready to give new birth

How precious is life when it’s nearing its end
In the middle, it’s easy to take for granted like a stubborn friend
We value it little when it’s abundant, plentiful
We cry out when it’s taken from us like a little boy or girl

Grey sky windows, twitching birds and immobilised trees
Silent living room, faded noon time and floor’s forlorn debris
Open eye fellow, eating, drinking, watching, cleaning
Mid-week search for existential meaning

March skies beckon me
Rain-soaked groves lure me
Silent tears falling to the earth
Cleansing and readying for tomorrow’s mirth

~ Gunnar Våken