So much beauty growing around us,

Yet every day we are lonelier still,

Stuck in our rut of providing a base,

We grow no longer but linger on,

He seemed taller once, wiser, and fitter too,

She glowed next to the globe, one of a kind,

They are giving souls, they would their last,

Now they just wish to be plain and useful,

There’s singular joy in a child,

The best cause for illusion,

Like plants, they will be poured over,

Expectations will ripen in every season,

For now we all till our gardens,

Each thine own reason, thine own pains,

We sow our sweat and dreams away hoping,

That one day we won’t feel like fools.