As raindrops strike the water’s surface
I sit and watch the lake,
Thousands of circles appear,
Expand, dissolve and disappear—
Almost as thoughts appear within my head,
Hold my attention and then let go.
Now strange clouds mix—
Light of thought, heavy body’s memory
Descend upon the roof of house, trickle down,
Form streams that flow into gutters,
Fall as drops from leaves on trees,
Pool as puddles on the sidewalk.
This is the world. This is Life.
This is glory that I watch.
At my age, more of life is memory
As hands of time advance upon the stage,
Voices of the dead who once breathed,
Rested beside me on the bed or sat at table,
Walked in sunny afternoons upon the trails.
Impossible to hold these memories
Without pleasant happiness passing through,
Dropping into consciousness
Just as do the drops of rain upon the lake.