The verse reminded me again of The brevity of life: "As for man, his days are like grass, He flourishes like a flower of the Field, the wind blows over it, And it is gone." * Min was scarcely 46, Jack, 87, And even if I reach Dad's 96 years, I have only 21 more to go, just a Speck of light in light of eternity. But if the flower of my youth is gone, Like a tenacious dandelion who's lost Its bloom hangs on, I'm still good for spreading seed. *Psalm 103: 15,16 |