the art of living
i laid awake at night and thought
poor soul who thinks tomorrow might
hold all the worth that men desire
to seek, to satisfy in small part
but then i saw, with eyes not dry
that desire be not the sad
but the end sight
for in the waiting, in the night
(whether dark night, or night of day)
life happens, want or not
in minutes between the good, the bad
so then and there i made my mind
of longing heart to stop its beat
to joy embrace and anguish defeat
and so learned the art of life
