The leaves, they fall from the standing trees,

Birds In the sky fly, short are their lives.

A boy and girl holding hands In the dark,

An Image In time as they become man and woman.

Seasons of four change through the year,

Love has a season, sometimes a lifetime.

The nights are always dark, a still quiet,

Just as the day Is light, the world Is alive.

Summers with friends often come to their end,

Time marches on, that’s the way It Is.

Fly away little bird, animals run till they’re done,

A son, a daughter go away with the setting sun.

The way It Is, just the way It Is,

We’re born to die, someday to touch the sky.

Keith Garrett



12 thoughts on “THE WAY IT IS

      • Nice. There is a gentleman, doctor, who wrote a few interesting books about the mind, the body, & the consciousness. He said that a journalist asked his mother’s opinion about his books. She said : I don’t understand a word, but if my son wrote it he is right. Take care Keith. I use to say that if we cannot see something it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Thank you for the nice conversation.

  1. My condolences . . . been there quite a bit. Mom, Dad, and both my sisters. It is only I who now represents my family tree. But, thankfully, they live in my heart every moment of the day.

    Sending Peace and Emotional Support your way!!!

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