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Visitors since 11 August 2001
Poetry is what is lost
in translation.
It is also what is lost
in interpretation.
Flowers That Die
I had a choice and so I made a choice
And if I made the wrong one
My reckoning will be a long one
But how could I regret
When we would never have met
If I'd let my life take a single different step
If there's a small part of my soul
That sees the greater whole
It can help me understand my role
If I forget about the flowers that die
I might forget about the seeds we planted
Forget about the wishes granted
When I'm alone
Or sometimes with you
And I don't know what to do
And I cry
Then I'm thinking about the flowers that die
I held a flower in my hand
And it helped me start to understand what he said
About infinty in a grain of sand
And though the time was only brief
It nurtured my belief
And came as something of a blessing and relief
The most important thing I know
About the things that come and go -
Don't be afraid to watch them grow
If I forget about the flowers that die
I might forget about the seeds we planted
Forget about the sweet enchanted night I spent in love with only you
When we knew just what to do -
Take our time
And make the most of the flowers
Before they die
Gavin Regnart
Page updated: 22/09/2002 22:40 © 2003 GJR Computing |