Like a sea of broken glass
I live within the blue-green grass.
Its fragrant scent is that of pine
Where anything I touch is mine.
I fly up to the age old Moon
To ask what I'll become too soon.
It smiles, and whispers in my ear,
Sharing those things I asked to hear.
As I drink the vital sounds
I realize my time is now.

As I drift through the blinding fog,
I hear the sound of barking dogs.
I think upon my best pal Heart,
With whom I could never part.
My pal with fur as soft as stone
Would never let me be alone.
I recall the day he died.
Upon his corpse I cried and cried.
I'll see his soul return to me.
At that time. I'll know I'm free.

I'll start upon my life-long stream,
And through its course, find life's theme.
The clean fresh water: it tastes like gold,
But someday soon I will be old,
And the tastes I once enjoyed
Will be moved and be put aside.
The biting tongue of the streams true course
Upon my body applied a force,
And the growing wrinkles upon my face,
Mean that I'll be moving to a better place.

Back within my grassy field
Trapped within a hazy shield
I know I can't escape
From this, the worst of fate.
I'll make my life the best I can
But, overall, it's such a short span.
The days of my youth are here and now.
I'll make the most of what I know.
In my future I'll be a man some day,
But I'll be the first one out to play.

Now I've left behind the dream of talking moons
And realized we all grow up too soon.

Joseph O'Connor
2/11/94