LONELINESS

 As soon as he entered the bookstore he plopped down in a chair…and I could tell immediately…there was something different there.

I noticed this about him…once into the store he walked…

He wasn’t there to buy a book…he was there to talk.

He spoke with anyone who walked by as if they were his congregation…

not just a simple hello…how are you…but an entire conversation.

I noticed anyone (and that was everyone) who stopped to talk with him a while…

young or old it didn’t matter…they left wearing a smile.

When there were no more customers in the store to talk to…at least none that he could see…my smile met his…and the next think I knew…the conversation turned to me.

It wasn’t really a conversation…which at first I found a little shocking…

as I did all the listening…and he did all the talking.

One thought would lead to another…about his family, his friends…his wife…

and in a little less than an hour…I knew the story of his life.

I know his wife made the bag he was carrying that now sat upon his knees…

I know the photos on that bag represented some of their favorite memories. 

I know his name is Herman…he was born in Ecuador…

I  know he grew up on the north side of Chicago…along Lake Michigan’s shore

I know what college he attended…where he met his wife, I know some of their hopes and fears…I know they lived in the house pictured on his bag for over 20 years.

I know how Covid left a hole in his heart…an emptiness in his life…

when first it took his mother…then two months later…took his wife.

I know that he was lonely…and that’s why that night he chose to stay…

I know how loneliness reminds us of those who once brightened up our days.

I know I enjoyed listening to his stories…his family history…nonetheless

I also know  I’ll never know the depth of his loneliness.

But I hope by sharing his memories with me and all the customers that night in our store…

at least for a little while…he wasn’t as lonely anymore.

OUR HOUSE

 

With so many people in war forced to flee…forced to run away…forced along the streets of their country to roam…in the peaceful calm of the morning I stopped to give thanks for our home.

It’s where our children grew up…our grandchildren played…it’s been a fortress for our family…

I can’t imagine what it would feel like…if we suddenly had to flee.

How tragic…how sorrowful…how demeaning…how unkind…

If one day we were forced to flee…and leave everything behind.

This house has our DNA within its walls…our genes…our chromosomes…What would it feel like to abandon all the things that make this house our home?

The bed we’ve shared for years…the table where we eat dinners and where many a game’s been played…the fireplace that kept our family warm…the chair Deborah’s father made.

Our photo albums…our books…the artwork on our walls…

the door with our family’s heights recorded…from the closet in the hall.

As I looked at our house I thought how nothing would alleviate…nothing would appease…if all we could take were the clothes on our back and a lifetime of memories.

And when I thought of all the people I have loved…

who have passed through our front door…

I can’t imagine losing all of this…

to the senselessness of war.

HAPPY NATIONAL SUPERHERO DAY

 

When I was young I dreamed of being a superhero whenever I would play…

I might be Superman…or a knight in shining armor searching for a dragon to slay.

I dreamed of being that person who ran into a burning building and pulled a baby to safety just before she was engulfed in flames…where everyone would recognize my courage…and forever remember my name.

The heroes I grew up with…the ones who most influenced me…had to do with sports, movies, books…and the ones I saw on TV.

Abe Lincoln, Ben Franklin and John F. Kennedy were my heroes until I found…

Abe never disciplined his children, Ben abandoned his wife…and Johny fooled around.

How could my heroes not act in real life like they did in books, movies and TV?

Who would have thought my heroes were human…and flawed…just like me.

I know now I was idolizing the wrong traits in the heroes that I sought…

and that my heroes were always a lot closer and more personal than I thought.

They were the people who loved me…who supported me…whose guidance and inspiration I sought…the ones who stood by me…whether I slayed a dragon…or not.

I know now our heroes don’t have to save the world…or make the winning score…

that some of our heroes can be found as close as our own front door.

Yes, now that I am older…some might say past…but I say in my prime…

I find the heroes I look up to have been with me all the time.

Although I still think it would be great to be a superhero…I now look at life more objectively…

My heroes are kind, generous and supportive people…at least they strive to be.

If I get the chance I’ll save that baby before she’s engulfed in flames…

but now it’s only important that my family and my friends forever remember by name.

AN ORCHID MADE OF STEELE

I used to wonder how we find our way after someone we love dies…

How do we climb out of the darkness and allow the light of joy to return to our eyes…

To show her gratitude to Deborah for doing something that gave her heart a lift…

a friend of hers returned the favor…and gave her an orchid as a gift.

Deborah gave that orchid sunlight and water and love…but no matter how she tried…the orchid lost its flowers…and we were pretty sure it died.

Deborah didn’t have the heart to throw it away…that would cause her too much pain…so she left it in the backyard to absorb the summer sunshine and cool off in the rain.

Nancy Steele was another friend of Deborah’s…their hopes and dreams they’d often share…until Nancy died too suddenly…too early…because cancer…does not care.

But their friendship didn’t end that day…to this day it survives…as long as Deborah can breathe and remember…Nancy remains alive.

Now we return to the orchid…because orchids were plants that Nancy grew…

“If only Nancy were here.” Deborah said when the orchid lost its bloom. “She’d know what to do.”

As if a testament to their friendship…and to the wonderful mystery of love’s power…

after a couple seasons in our back yard…that orchid began to flower.

And today it continues to flower…continues to bloom…and grow….

We figure Nancy’s taking care of it…from wherever angels go.

I no longer wonder how we find our way after someone dies…

how we climb out of the darkness and allow the light of joy to return to our eyes…

I know there is no panacea…no universal solution we’ll ever find…

but I also know the first step is to follow the light they’ve left behind.

A light that led to an orchid given in friendship that helped another friend to heal…

an orchid I imagine will bloom forever…after all…it’s an orchid made of Steele.

 

A CASE FOR THE PRETZEL

 

Today is National Pretzel Day…the day to give our hats a tip

to the long-suffering cousin of the more popular potato chip.

I’m not sure how it happened…why or where or when

but in a list of the most popular snacks...pretzels aren’t in the top 10?

How can they lose out to Cheetos...sure they may be a little bit duller

but Cheetos leave your fingers orange...and is that even a real color?

If you think that doesn’t bother the pretzel…bother them a lot.

I imagine that’s the real reason they’re all tied up knots.

So today lets glorify the pretzel and spread good pretzel thoughts across the land

Did you know they were originally shaped to resemble praying hands?

And here’s an interesting little tidbit, an often forgotten stat

the marriage term ‘tie the knot....we have the pretzel to thank for that.

Pretzels once were a part of weddings, held by the couple for everyone to see

to be broken and eaten together as a symbol of unity.

The pretzel signifies good luck…in Germany children believe it brings good cheer.

That’s why they tie one around their neck at the beginning of each year.

Pretzels once adorned Christmas trees…Hey! this is a snack with legs...

At one time they were even hidden...on Easter Sunday…with the eggs.

A long time ago pretzels were a common way to help the poor get fed.

They were often thought so highly of...they were buried with the dead!

I could go on and on but I think I’ve made my case…

When it comes to every other snack…you’re all vying for 2nd place.

So move over cookies, candy, crackers, Cheeto’s and potato chips…

you’ve all had your fun.

It’s time for the pretzel to take its rightful place as the snack world’s number 1.

SANDBAGS OF LOVE

 I don’t want to hate…but when I hear hate spewing from other people’s mouths…when I see the way certain people are treated for being who they are…when I see Ukrainians on the run…

I don’t want to hate…is easier said…than done.

But that’s what hate is counting on in its never-ending attack…

Hate feeds upon itself…and grows larger every moment we hate back.

After reading the news this morning…which was not a good way to start…

I began my walk angry…with hate filling up my heart…

Until, that is, I heard the unmistakable singing of the morning dove…

she made me smile as she reminded me of all the things in life there are to love.

It’s something I struggle to do when hate attacks…

when I’m trying to weather her endless storms…

I try to think of love…in all her different sizes… shapes and forms.

Because love will also feed itself…and if nurtured will never end…

So I think about the love I have for my family…and my friends.

I think of how I love sunrises and sunsets…the way the clouds float on the breeze…

how I love the birds that fly, the mountains high…the flowers and the trees.

I think of how I love ice cream and chocolate…riding in a car…p

The smell in the air after a rain…rainbows…peanut butter in a jar.

I think of how I love my morning walks…sharing it with the possums and raccoons…

trying to find the big dipper…watching the phases of the moon.

When the waters of hate come flooding in from the ground or raining from the sky above

I do my best to stem the tide…by filling my sandbags with love.

The higher the flood waters of hate rise…the more sandbags of love I need…

my goal is to keep is to keep from drowning…until the waters of hate recede.

EVERYWHERE BABIES BANNED

 

The book Everywhere Babies by Susan Meyers originally published in 2001…

look it up…you might be amazed at all the awards it’s won!

It celebrates all kinds of babies and families in this diverse and once wonderful land…

Yet along with 57 other books deemed inappropriate by a school district in Florida…Everywhere Babies has been banned.

I imagine those who banned it have forgotten part of the wonder of babies…

is not only the way they smile, laugh and dance…

but just the idea of a baby…means humankind has another chance.

Another chance to be accepting…to make the world more beautiful…to diversify..

Another chance to show the world…there’s more to love than meets the eye.

Another chance to fight evil…another chance not to overlook 

the kind of evil that in the name of politics would ban a 20 year old baby book

Another chance to understand how sometimes pure evil can lurk behind a seemingly sincere mouthful of smiling teeth…

Another chance to unmask those sinister smiles and expose the evil underneath.

I’m not sure what those who banned this book are afraid of…

why it’s been taken off the shelf…

I imagine the best way to understand it…

would be to buy it and read for yourself…

Yes, perhaps that is the best way to fight this insanity…

what has become a distorted political view…

go out and buy yourself Everywhere Babies…

as of this moment we’ve purchased 2.

TRUE LOVE

 

Their story has its beauty…a wonder…like all love stories do….

It also has its share of tragedy…heartache and sorrow too.

They met…they fell in love…both knew it in their heart…

but life and its unpredictability…kept the two of them apart.

It would be years until they’d meet again to share a love long overdue

as the embers that burned long ago…began to flame anew.

For five years they were inseparable…sharing the same time and space…

For five years the smiles they rekindled remained upon their face.

They were happy, they felt fortunate…every sunset was more vibrant…every bird song amplified…until the day his heart gave out…while seated by her side.

She was devastated…at how fate had separated them in the beginning…

and how time took him in the end…

and she knows deep within her heart and soul…she will never love like that again.

She has days when her eyes still fill with tears…days when she is sad…

while other days she’s happy for all the time they had…

Which means most days in her heart…there is a joy…a jubilant relief…

for in her life she has known true love…even though it’s time was brief.

Her message:

If you’re lucky enough to find someone with whom all your thoughts and feelings rhyme

do not waste a minute…because we’re all on borrowed time.

WHAT EARTH WITNESSED ON THEIR FINAL DAY

 

The Earth could only watch what happened to the humans their final day

How…whether or not they believed in a God…they all looked to the sky to pray

How humans in every language…from every corner of the world…

all beseeched the sky…all asking the same question…why…they wondered…why.

After hearing the humans’ question…the sky began to glow…

The God’s answer…carried on the thunder… 

“How sad…you do not know.”

“We created you to love the Earth.” they cried. 

 "To love the animals and one another.

To treat everything and everybody…like a sister and a brother.”

“You ask why we are ending humankind…

why your time on this planet is short…

it’s because we’ve watched you pollute the land, the seas, the sky.” They said. 

“It’s because you shoot animals..for sport”.

“It’s because we’ve provided you with enough food for your entire planet to eat…

yet some of you get fat while others are starving in your streets.”

“It’s because we’ve watched you wage war on one another…

we’ve watched how to other fellow human beings and creatures….you are demeaning…

It’s because you kill one another so easily…as if life, to you, has no meaning.” 

“You ask how could we condemn you to such a tragic…horrific fate

You condemned yourselves!” their voices boomed, “when you turned our love to hate.”

And with that the sky above began to dim…it was no longer glowing bright…

silence descended on the land… as day turned into night.

And when the light returned…

upon the Earth peace and harmony reigned…

for every human was gone 

and only the mountains, 

the oceans, 

the rivers 

the sky

the plants 

and the animals remained.

A LETTER FROM EARTH

 As the day to celebrate me approaches…

When I see how you mistreat each other and me…

it makes me wonder why

and the moment I saw the hate, the wars…the pollution…I began to cry.

I hope you find a way to halt your hatred and neglect…

if you want to wash away my tears…

because I am more delicate than you might think…

more fragile than I appear.

I’m afraid if you can’t find a way to treat me better 

and to each other extend the hands of peace…

then I will continue to wallow in my sadness 

and my tears will never cease.

And the Universe will witness the end of me…

and watch me exhale my last breath…

and wonder how an entire planet

could have cried herself to death.

Sincerely,

The Earth

THE DEBATE

 

After enduring their egocentricity for centuries…Gaia could no longer wait…so she summoned every entity on the planet…to listen to the debate.

“The humans think they are more important than all of you.” Gaia said….This was met with laughter from all the non-human guests

“I wanted to give them a chance to prove to us why they think they are the best.”

“We are by far the most complex.” the humans said, ‘It takes 30 trillion cells to make up one woman or one man.’

‘The next time you’re on the beach,”  Gaia replied…”try counting all the grains of sand.”

‘Our hearts are truly a mechanical wonder.” The humans added… “a fact you can’t deny.”

Gaia nodded, “But our ocean beats with the same rhythm…and our oceans never die.”

“And if you’re looking for the biggest heart…in that same ocean it can be found…it’s inside the great blue whale’s and it weighs 400 pounds.”

“If you’re looking for the biggest heart in relation to the size of the animal…this also has been catalogued…the prize here does not go to you humans…the winner is…the dog.”

“And again, while we’re on this subject…your human heart is truly a marvel…a wonder for all to see…but your one heart pales in comparison…the octopus and the giraffe…have three."

“But we’ve built boats to conquer the water and planes that allow us to fly.” everyone present could hear the humans’ cheers…until Gaia quickly pointed to the dolphins and the eagles saying, “They’ve been doing that for years”.

“You cannot doubt we are much smarter.” the humans smiled. “Our brains are truly the best!”“Ah, but you only prove your ignorance .” Gaia said, “the moment you think you’re smarter than the rest”.

“I have heard enough.” Gaia said. "Humans you are truly special…and there is no doubt you have your worth…

but the Earth can live without you…you cannot live without the Earth.

No entity on this planet is more important or more blessed

No entity on this planet is more important than the rest.

The non-humans were ecstatic…the humans, predictably, were irate…

“I hope one day you’ll understand.” Gaia said..

with that…she ended the debate.

SILENT POETRY

 

I think of every artist as a poet…I’m not being fanciful or quaint…

their poetry is on their canvas…their verses overlapped in paint.

Their capacity to see the poetry in a moment…and their ability to lift…

and capture the beauty in the silence of that moment…this is the artist’s gift.

Every moment of every day and night the Earth is painting across her skies

producing an ever-changing masterpiece….right before our eyes.

The Earth paints frenetically…attempting to fill the vastness of her space

But…since her painting is never completed…

it’s up to our hearts, our souls and our eyes to keep up with her pace.

We try committing a moment to memory….we try unequivocally.

But, since the mural is changing so rapidly,

it’s difficult to hold on to any one moment that we see.

Enter the artist with brushes in hand and colors to be blended…

who chooses a moment…while the Earth is painting as quickly as she spins…

and the very moment that moment ends…is the moment the artist begins.

When the paint on the artist’s canvas has dried

We see not only that captured moment in time 

but how beautifully the colors mingle…

how they harmonize….

how like poetry…they rhyme

And we feel lucky the artist and our paths have crossed.

the road ahead of us now abundantly clear…

for though the artist has captured a moment in time

our hearts and our minds must take it from here

It is the moment when our heart and our mind meet up with our eyes…

we are finally able to see…

the beauty of that moment in time 

the beauty of an artist’s silent poetry.

CHOCOLATE BUNNIES, EGGS AND JELLY BEANS

 

As our family gathered for Easter…within a few minutes…in my brain…a memory was jarred…of our children and grandchildren searching for eggs the Easter Bunny had hidden in our yard.

I remember our children with their Easter baskets crammed with that fake grass…colored green…and filled with the eggs we dyed, a chocolate bunny and a rainbow of jelly beans.

But our children are much older now…our youngest grandchild is about to turn 16…and we no longer celebrate with the Easter bunny, baskets or jelly beans.

As I sat there I began to wonder in all the years watching our amazing family growing up…when exactly was it…the moment the Easter Bunny stopped showing up.

Childhood is believing the Easter Bunny will come in the night and hide eggs in the grass, the bushes and the ferns…childhood ends the moment we stop believing the Easter Bunny will return.

It is a subtle transformation one day there are no more eggs to find for we’ve discovered other things…as we leave our childhood behind.

Instead of talking about the Easter bunny…jelly beans…and candies filled with cream…

We talk about their lives…their hopes…their wishes…and their dreams…

This year the conversations had nothing to do with Easter baskets or the goodies they contain…it focused on more important subjects like how they’ll be no Easter in Ukraine.

The question is often asked…which some find odd…some unusual…and some funny…

Does the Easter Bunny outgrow us…or do we outgrow the bunny?

I don’t think it’s either…actually…I think the Easter Bunny’s mission is and always will be to leave behind…a little innocence, hope and wonder in the corners of our minds

And once the bunny realizes her mission is over…once in our minds these ideas have been implanted…she’s off to the next generation of children who need to be enchanted.

Which is why you’ll always see me smiling on Easter…knowing even when our children have all outgrown their teens…there remains within their hearts a place for chocolate bunnies, eggs and jelly beans

And why you’ll find even children my age…on Easter…once that memory has been jarred… searching for an egg or two…that might be hiding in our yard. 

HAPPY EASTER

 In a world fraught with peril…when we sometimes find it hard to cope

Easter arrives to remind us…there is always room for hope.

Hope for a better world than this and though disheartened by what we see

It is our hope through our unhappiness that shapes our destiny.

Hope is believing there is light somewhere in the darkness…

hope is the fuel that allows our heart to run…

and though we may be disappointed with today…

hope rises anew tomorrow with the sun.

For the beauty of a better future is the hope tomorrow brings…

The hope that Spring will follow Winter…and Summer follows Spring

Hope that, one day, we will realize we all have but one home…Earth is what she’s named…hope we will one day find the ability to treat everyone the same.

Hope for a world of peace and love…where everyone is free

living our lives together…in friendship and harmony.

Hope that when each one of us is gone

from the eyes of our friends and family happy tears will drop like dew.

Hope we’ve left behind some sighs…some smiles…

and a happy memory…or two

When the fate of the world around us…

seems to be hanging by the thinnest strand of a rope…

Easter comes around to remind us…

never to stop loving

and never give up hope.

MUSIC OF THE NIGHT

 

When you rise in the early morning long before the sun’s first light 

you have this wonderful opportunity to eavesdrop on the music of the night.

If you don’t hear the music at first…wait!…it won’t be long…

before the crickets, whom you never see, choose the rhythm of the song.

Once you catch the rhythm…just as your body begins to sway…

as if the maestro pointed in their direction…the woodwinds begin to play.

Their music enters from every direction as you walk through the neighborhood…

The melody changing depending on how the wind chooses to whistle through the woods.

The woodwinds can enter loudly on a gust…or softly on a gentle morning breeze…

either way….wherever you turn…there is music in the trees.

Just as you’re thinking to yourself…is there a better way to start the day…

the birds pick up their horns…and the brass begins to play.

If you’re lucky…and you listen closely…sometimes the music of the night…

offers a violin concerto…of the hummingbirds in flight.

Some walks take a little longer…you stop more often…close your eyes knowing you don’t have to see…all you have to do is listen to nature’s morning symphony.

Sadly…when the sun begins its rise…the symphony quickly fades away…

as the music of the night relinquishes the stage to the music of the day.

But another symphony begins tomorrow…if you rise before the sun’s first light…

another opportunity awaits…to eavesdrop on the music of the night.

FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND

 

We walked along the beach today...together hand in hand

enjoying the sights and sounds of nature…while making footprints in the sand.

We watched the sandpipers scurry to and fro between the water and the land

searching for their morning meal…while making footprints in the sand.

We saw a young family playing together making castles with their hands

each moment filled with laughter…while making footprints in the sand.

As we walked what caught my attention was not so much the beauty of the land

It was the myriad of footprints left imprinted in the sand.

And the fact we will never know who made these footprints in the sand.

If they were old or young or black or white…if they were a woman…or a man?

We can’t tell their gender…their God…where politically they stand…

when all we have two go on are their footprints in the sand

We have no way of knowing if they were from Russia, Ukraine, Sweden or Finland…

when the only information before us are their footprints in the sand.

And for one idealistic moment I thought…wouldn’t it be grand…

If all we had to judge another person by…were their footprints in the sand.

No one need be ridiculed…no one need be banned…

we would only see how similar we are from our footprints in the sand.

And in that idealistic moment I wished we were more like sandpipers as we scurry across the land…with no reason to judge each other while making footprints in the sand.

Hoping we could live in harmony…like the footprints we saw today…

and that the rising tide of hate would never come ashore…and wash that harmony away.

CUPCAKE MATH

 

Once a week while school’s in session…to make one day ‘cooking free’

Deborah makes a meal which we deliver to Ali and her family…

With this week’s meal my grandpa senses were on full alert

for accompanying the meal…Deborah made cupcakes for dessert.

Deborah’s cupcakes not to be eaten by me turns me into a psychopath…

and immediately brings to the forefront…grandpa’s cupcake math.

I am not a mathematician…just a 69 year old man….

but here’s the way I did the math…follow…if you can.

Ali has three children home…so far the math was easy for me…

since Deborah made 12 cupcakes…each person would get three.

But she asked me to try one…to make sure they tasted good….

being a kind and giving grandpa…of course I said I would.

Well the cupcake wasn’t just delicious…it tasted like a little bit of heaven…

the only problem being….that left the cupcakes number at eleven.

Then again I hadn’t tasted the cupcake when frosted…which I had to do…but then

after eating two of the twelve cupcakes…that left only ten.

Ten cupcakes can’t be divided by four people evenly….(although, admittedly, my math’s not great)….so I ate two more cupcakes…taking their number down to eight.

This way they’ll each get two cupcakes when the dividing of cupcakes is done…

but do they really need two cupcakes each…when all they really need…is one.

So I ate another two cupcakes…then I ate two more…

and when the crumbs had settled…they left Ali’s family with four.

But four cupcakes seemed like such a small amount…

I didn’t want their feelings to be hurt…

So I ate the last four cupcakes….

after all…

Deborah made them an entire meal…

did they really need dessert!

NATIONAL SCRABBLE DAY (THE SEQUEL)

 Happy National Scrabble Day…celebrating a game that makes the case

for the importance of the letters Q and Z especially on a triple letter space!

Thank you Alfred Mosher Butts who despite your unfortunate name

created a game that’s brought joy to many and to you world wide acclaim.

Scrabble teaches us patience when with only consonants or only vowels we are stuck

It helps us understand life’s randomness...how sometimes we just need some luck.

Scrabble teaches us to take risks and that in losing there is no shame

It remind us it’s not always where we end up but how well we have played the game.

As an extra added bonus Scrabble allows our vocabulary to grow

Because after a playing only few games...look at the obscure words we now know!

XI is the 14th letter of the Greek alphabet, ZED stands for the letter Z

QAT is a shrub from Africa and QI a word for Chinese philosophy.

OE is a Scottish expression and OY can be used quite the same

XU is money used in Vietnam, AUK...a bird with a funny name, 

KI is a Sumerian God meaning Earth, a mountain carved by a glacier is CWM

If you see the letters M L P G H & E…rearrange their order and they spell PHLEGM.

If you start the game with Z K J I  S U M, don’t get your nose out of joint

Just spell MUZJIKS...a 7 letter double word...and smile...that’s 128 points! 

But knowing an arcane term for a Russian peasant when the Scrabble game is done

as impressive as that is...it’s still only half the fun.

Because when you think about it, as we thank Mr. Butts for a game that truly transcends...

Without Scrabble, the little game he created long ago...there’d be no Words With Friends.

I’ve always had one question I wold have liked to ask Mr. Butts, however:

Why did you create…a game that uses seven letters to form words…

but christen it with a word that uses eight?

THAT'S ALL I ASK

 

For nine months we live connected…sharing the same rhythm…so it should come as no surprise…how we share a similar message the first time we look into each other’s eyes.

It’s a message at first unspoken…something all mothers and babies do.

Love me, we say with our eyes to one another, that’s all I ask of you.

Through all life’s highs and lows…all our successes and our failures too…our message to one another remains the same…

Love me, that’s all I ask of you.

When we meet someone we hope to share our life with…

when we know our love is true.

we look into each other’s eyes and say, 

Love me, that’s all I ask of you.…

As we grow older we make a wish to our friends and family 

as each day starts anew…

Love me, we whisper with our eyes closed…that’s all I ask of you.

Love me, that’s all I ask of you…

a message so innocent and sweet…

I wonder what our world would be like 

if we shared that message with everyone we meet.

Would it be happier place…

where peace, 

acceptance 

and joy shine through…

if Love me…is all I you ask of me…and all I ask of you?

And wouldn’t it be wonderful when our time on Earth is coming to an end…

when our life is almost through…

If the message we share with all those gathered round us is…

Thank you…for doing all I asked of you.