Precious Life

So precious...O so precious,
Is my life.
Even though upon this earth,
There's a measure full of strife.

It is to me a staff,
On which I lean.
My need of nourishment,
For which I glean.

It is my step...the prints,
Of my ancestral strains.
The beat of my heart...my breath,
The ebbing blood within my veins.

A pendulum of time,
On which I swing.
The fragile flow of thistle,
On which I cling.

And this is my second-estate,
And one has gone before.
If I can keep the faith and measure-up,
My third will be...Forever More.

E.P. 1908 - 1989