What Life Is

Poem By Jean C. Bafia

If life were like a looking glass,
And the future, I could see;
I could pick it up and look inside,
And what it holds for me.
Or if it were a charge account,
The limit without end;
Then it would be forever,
No matter what I spend.
And if it were a puzzle,
Just lying in a drawer;
Then I could simply take it out,
And work it through once more.
Wouldn't it be wonderful,
If life was like a book;
To know each chapter in advance,
I'd only have to look.
But all it is, is what it is,
A mystery, a rhyme;
A tragedy, a symphony,
A space in borrowed time.

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The Artist And The Poet

An artist paints on canvas,
A poet paints in mind,
And those who search their meaning,
Different answers each will find.

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My artist is a genius, the best you'll ever find,
For he can paint a rainbow and sunbeams in my mind;
I close my eyes and see his work, every shadow, every leaf,
Every ripple in a tranquil pond, or crashing wave against a reef.