by Master Om
This poem was written just outside of Washington DC on 9/11/2001
|Honored father, cherished wife...
what is the measure of a life?
When the final die is cast
will your mark be built to last?
Will you number with the horde
that pitch their talent overboard?
Will you the average person be
who knows not defeat nor victory?
In the final measurement
will your time be judged well spent?
Will your mark be built to last
as those who fill our honored past?
Will you soar with Frank Lloyd Wright
to perfect the balance of space and light?
Will you explore with Captain Cook
and record your deeds in a timeless book?
Will your words light the way
in the fashion of St. Vincent Millay?
Or, perhaps, you will walk the walk
in the path of Jonas Salk.
Whatever mark you seek to make
mindful be of the time you take.
The present soon becomes the past
and short is the list of marks that last.