Today I will laugh.
I will enjoy every breath.
I will smell, touch, taste, see,
hear everything or person passing me.
I will revel in the joy of being
with friends, of knowing
I have a small piece of each
in mind and heart.
In tomorrow's solitude,
when photographs, penned addresses
are all that is left,
when even good-byes are fading
memories, I will grieve.
A certain season is passing.
A season of planting.
Now, in the secret dark of my heart
the seed will begin to grow.
I promise to cherish it,
nourish it, share it
when it is mature.
Today I will laugh, but
tomorrow I will grieve.