The open heart is never quite alone,
neither in empty room nor silent street,
and though there may be none to hold or greet,
for those who’ve loved, these joys are not unknown.
Come, speak to me of times gone by.
Remind me of our carefree youth.
Recall with me those nights we sang
and laughed and thought we knew the truth.
Who am I? A mystery––
my thoughts unknown, my world unseen.
How much of life and light is lost
behind a self-made screen?
In life, there is a symmetry––
a balance that bespeaks a plan,
and he who treads a humble path
will find in him a peaceful man.
Sit down with me, and let us seek
a respite from the cold and bleak.
Lay down the bundles that you hold,
and listen to the words I speak.
When do men lose the urge to climb
and run to ground?
Where children see a peak sublime
the grown-ups look at rock and grime,
Too many sorrows I have known,
too many sadnesses unsaid.
A lake of woe surrounds my heart,
the last remains of tears unshed
Somewhere behind the angle of his face
resides the carefree child he used to be.
The soft curves yield to time, and in their place
emerge the strong lines of maturity.