Sometimes we feel we’re in a race,
Running fast to keep the pace,
We push on hard to do our best,
Trying to out do the rest,
But it does seem somewhat strange to me,
That we did never ask to be,
A runner in the race of life,
So full of care and woe and strife,
We somehow found ourselves among,
This rushing, pushing human throng,
That surges forward with mindless intent,
To reach some indeterminate end,
Where prizes, speeches and orations,
Will mark the winner’s celebrations,
But what happens to the runner who has won,
Whose race is complete and then is done?
It seem much better now to me,
To drop out from that race you see,
And instead, just watch and stare,
And soak up life without a care,
And then to make a solemn vow,
To live life in the here and now.
(19/7/09)
