Treasure Poem by Joe Fraccalvieri

The sun cares not if it burns your skin
Nor do the trees, which lend their shade,
worry in turn when the skies send their rain
It matters not to the world if you lose, or you win
And… In the end, if you fall,
there's no concern for your pain

We can never look at each other
as seen through a mother's eyes
And we may reach toward the stars
to learn every last truth
Yet we toil in a field full of lies

But God is the air-- that we breathe--
safe and sure...
Though hardly we care
if His words leave your mouth
for others to share--
just as long as they stay clear and pure

We are the spark of life embraced at birth
as the infant child who cries
By the breath of God which graced the earth
the soul is kindled-- though the body dies

Our time together is at best very brief...
Like the twig holding gently
the quivering leaf

But grand is our pleasure…
And great is our grief
For breath is the treasure...
And Death...
The Thief