A pair of poems from Helen Lawson Weber (the grandmother of a friend). Dedicated to those of you who, like me, are living in the moment and drinking deeply from life.
Each day, for fear I die, I whisper to
The silken air, and murmur to the rose;
I follow fleet the silver note; I woo
Small creatures; tell my truest love; propose
To Joy, who swift embraces me; I skim
The peaks, and perch the highest mounts,
Examining distances; I search the whim
Of crystal streams and drink from many founts.
Like, when a child, I’d leap from a tall fence rail
To wild mare’s back, with hugging knees, to cling
Until she threw me off—so I will flail
And badger Life, demanding everything;
Life will be glad she is rid of me to Death;
I will wear her out, and leave her, gasping breath!
Life, ere you waste me with your senseless pain,
And your Successor stop my mouth with mud
And bid my powdered bones to share domain
With feeding roots; Life, while your ardent blood
Still pumps my heart, O I would dance once more,
And flaunt delight, and catch raindrops on
My cheek, and race with wind along the shore,
Bareback astride a horse—laughing at dawn.
When you outdistance me, and all my force
Proves not enough to keep survive this shell;
Not I the one to rail and fret me hoarse;
Instead white flame held high, I’ll wave farewell—
Though as you vanish, “Fiend!” I’ll call, and “Cheat!”
But know this now: Ever I cry you sweet!