“Each person sees life through different eyes”,
I’ve often heard people philosophize.
They say it so lightly, the meaning seems clear,
But I ponder a moment when those words I hear.
Of course about people, a lot can be said,
But to really define them is a task I would dread.
So many wise men have lived for that task,
Approaching each mind with a question to ask.
They leave in their memoirs, or try to, a clue.
But the Almighty calls them before they are through.
Yet as wise men die, new wise men are born,
Going on with the struggle – ‘til they too, we mourn.
Life’s an over-sized puzzle, each piece fills a place,
And even in dying, we fill up a space.
We’ve come a long way, since wise men began,
Our puzzle’s begun to look more like a plan.
We muse at what picture our puzzle will show,
I wonder if any of use need to know,
Though we may find the answers, the fact will remain –
Once the puzzle is finished, it’s the end of the game.