Childhood skips across the shadows
As golden laughter chimes their dance
And the electric Earth plays their music
In a stirring, rippling, rousing trance
How quickly the years of youth go sailing
Along the waves of fleeting time
Then in later years “If only”
Becomes the cry old voices pine
Compelled now to feel and flow and fly
The present moments’ swaying stance
What to do with time on our hands?
What to do with this fleeting glance?
Let’s live this life of ours with grace,
Not fritter away the hours of our prime.
Let’s fill our coming years with joy,
So when life ends, our worthy souls will climb.