Count of Days- a Poem

“Teach us to number our days”
Said the old man of times past with a reason.
Length of time from birth to death –
Is it not a mark of ink?
For the measure of life in count of days
Is of no use when no substance is released.

Packaged in a every man is a gift,
Delivered to earth like a parcel at birth
The value of which is terminated at death.
So it is not the length of days but
the use of them – the oozing flavour and scent –

The wise use of them betters the earth,
soothing and relieving it of its woes.
Large counts, high numbers, and long life
are nothing but fleeting vapour
if life groans in its agony of pains,
Instead of laughing at the refreshing of its gift.

The value of life is not exhausted
as long as it still breathes.
For to apply your heart to wisdom is to
Live, not only on the count of days but
In the joy and love of making living as it is –
A priceless gift.


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