Silent ghost, perched upon my garden wall,
What brought you here? What is it that you see,
That makes you peer so intently at me,
Through winter’s misty pall?
Is it idle curiosity, or perhaps a tiny mouse,
That so captivates your persistent gaze?
I do perceive, despite the icy haze,
Your ghostly presence outside my house,
Is but a token of how life goes;
One moment we are here, the next are gone.
Comes the morning, we may not see the dawn,
Or wake to carry on despite life’s throes.
You seem to say, all you have is now,
Follow your endeavors through.
The God of Life will make them true,
And bear them fruit somehow.
I look again and you have fled,
As ghostly silent as you came.
Still, I am here but not the same;
Your lesson sealed inside my head.
