SPIRIT OF THE PRESENT

I pay no heed to the past

Or the future yet not born.

The innocent laugh of the baby,

From the present maketh me strong!

I would not care for the rashes,

Or the scars from the past that I got

For I would not care for my skin,

With age it shall wrinkle and wrought.

This heart as fragile as glass

Preyed upon by scores of wolves...

Yet this heart lay not barren,

For my soul fills up my mood.

This soul, my cohort of life

My guide to joy yet not seen...

This soul, that makes me strive,

For a life I’ve promised to win.