As The Grass Withers Poem by Cynthia Buhain-baello

As The Grass Withers

Each day and night make me aware
Of the brevity of life and why I'm here.
However brief the passing season
Everything happens for a reason.

A time to be born, and a time to die -
For mortals like me, this we can't deny.
As the grass withers and the flowers fall,
We're all bound for the grave at Death's call.

Yet we live for a purpose, a valued legacy,
We may leave words of hope, a living memory,
Lessons handed down to the next generation,
The torch of our wisdom as their inspiration.

Copyright © Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~06.29.17