Mysterious Is This Gift Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Whatever it is kept,
We keep to believe...
Nothing about how we breathe,
Changes.
Nothing about that,
Has changed to be done.
And no one has presented,
A re-invention of it.

Whatever it is kept,
To believe...
Nothing about life to live is guaranteed.
No one who has received life,
Can say to claim...
They have a warrantee.

Life!
Mysterious is this gift,
Of life.
The more it's lived the less is known,
Of life.
And on paths we travel fast.
As if our journeys to do alone,
Slow with it shown...
We all run out of gas.

Life!
Mysterious is this gift,
Of life.
The more it's lived the less is known,
Of life.
And when we're young we don't believe,
The life we have will from us leave.

Nothing about life to live is guaranteed.
No one who has received life,
Can say to claim...
They have a warrantee.

Life!
Mysterious is this gift we get,
Of life.
And some who live it take for granted,
Their lives to romance to enhance...
Life.
To live as if forever.
Life.
Life.
Life.