What Is This Life

What is this life, if full of care,
we have no time to stand and stare?
No time to rest beneath the boughs,
and gaze as long as sheep or cows.

No time to watch as she drifts by,
graceful and beautiful, to a lullaby.
No time to wonder, to look within,
to quiet the noise that drowns the din.

The turmoil inside, the doubts that shout—
what is this life if filled with doubt?
To see into my future, I no longer care,
for the time is now to stand and stare.

To pause, to breathe, to feel the air,
to lose myself in moments rare.
For all this rushing, this endless chase,
leaves me longing for a simpler place.

What is this life, if always blind
to the beauty we’re leaving behind?
No time to linger, no time to see,
the world as it was meant to be.

So let me stop, let me be aware—
to find my peace, to simply stare.
For the time is now, and I must dare
to stand, to pause, to truly care.