As we progress along the road of life,
The mist becomes much thicker,
Those little things that cause us strife,
Loved ones with whom we bicker.
We get wrapped up in little things,
We fail to see the joys,
Our blessings fly on little wings,
Our children, girls and boys.
Its miracles like Elizabeth Smart,
That makes us look around,
But when you look from end to start,
Other miracles do abound.
So listen up my weary friend,
As you progress along life’s trail,
Your spirit will live and never end,
With our children when we're frail.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem