What is there to say of a life; though in cruel attention
and blind ambition, some give darkness to its name
Leaving all words to falter and fall like autumns sting
and winters bitter whip of chill?
What is there to say of a life; though brilliant it may shine
and succor visions of lovers, some give light to its nature
leaving lines to lift like springs ageless struggle
and summers undaunted care?
What to say when pen to paper a life is fit to be written; both of triumph and fault
it is a poets strain and struggle, to give justice to it all
for who is the writer but a visionary, uncleanzed of opinion
unbiased as the moon to the stars.
Yet in consideration, pondered thoughts and adoration one discovers
the writer is the poem
and words breathe life by the life you have lived:
struggles and triumphs a treasure you began with first a thought;
So, what is there to say of a life?
there is much and yet so little, to sum up sun, moon and stars
but brilliant our world is, with you, and brilliant not, without.