Poems and Prose

Song of Life

The Roman statesman Seneca wrote that wherever there is a human being,
there is an opportunity for a kindness. No selfless act is insignificant.

A traveler on a dusty road
Strewed acorns on the lea;
And one took root and sprouted up,
And grew into a tree.
Love sought its shade at evening time,
To breathe its early vows;
And Age was pleased, in heights of noon,
To bask beneath its boughs.
The dormouse loved its dangling twigs,
The birds sweet music bore,
It stood a glory in its place,
A blessing evermore.

A little spring had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
A passing stranger scooped a well
Where weary men might turn.
He walled it in, and hung with care
A ladle on the brink;
He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that Toil might drink.
He passed again; and lo! the well,
By summer never dried,
Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues,
And saved a life beside.

A nameless man, amid the crowd
That thronged the daily mart,
Let fall a word of hope and love,
Unstudied from the heart.
A whisper of the tumult thrown,
A transitory breath,
It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death.

0 germ! 0 fount! 0 word of love!
0 thought at random cast!
Ye were but little at the first,
But mighty at the last.

Charles MacKay