If we never meet again – Tony Bennett and k.d. lang

If we never meet again
I’ll have a rose to remember
The snows of December
Will bring you back to me

If we never meet again
I’ll fall asleep in the flowers
Dream of the hours
We spent in ecstasy

The leaves in the fall
Will wreak of the beauty
I found in your eyes

The birds in the spring
When they sing
Will tell me that love never dies

If we never meet again
As sure as heaven above you
Forever I’ll love you
If we never meet again

The leaves in the fall
Will wreak of the beauty
I found in your eyes

The birds in the spring
When they sing
Will tell me that love never dies

If we never meet again
As sure as heaven above you
Forever I’ll love you
If we never meet again

If we never meet again by Tony Bennett and k.d. lang

https://youtu.be/AWRmX-OqDqo

Should I be gone forever

by Small Circle Big Circle

Photo by Small Circle Big Circle

Should I be gone forever,

yes, do weep for me.

But also, 

look in the mud

your little feet 

will want to step in.

Look in the grass,

in the trunks of the trees;

look in the raindrops,

in the drops of dew on the leaves.

Look in the snowflakes

that caress gently your face;

look in the sand at the beach,

in the stars up in space.

I know I’ll be there,

Please come and look for me.

Hear me in the song of the crows,

in the call of the owl;

Hear me in the sound of the waves,

in the wind, in the brook, 

in the rain, in the fire.

I know I’ll be there;

Please come and look for me.

Feel me in your heart

laughing hard, singing loud;

holding your hand,

brushing your hair,

hugging you tight;

can you see 

I am really there?

I’ll tuck you in at night.

I’ll whisper a prayer;

I’ll bake you a cake in the morning,

I will be there.

I will always be there. 

My heart in your heart 

Will forever be.

For ever and ever

You three and me.

The summer day – by Mary Oliver

Photo by Small Circle Big Circle

Who made the world?

Who made the swan, and the black bear?

Who made the grasshopper?

This grasshopper, I mean —

the one who has flung herself out of the grass,

the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,

who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down–

who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.

Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.

Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.

I don’t know exactly what prayer is.

I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down

into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,

how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,

which is what I have been doing all day.

Tell me, what else should I have done?

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it that you plan to do

With your one wild and precious life?

– Mary Oliver