Glories

As time goes by
We gather glories
Here and there
As best we can
As if life were a picnic
The world a vast meadow
Wild flowers beckoning
Wishing it seems
To be gathered up

Glories abound
But for the picking
The carriage
The choice of vase
And as with flowers
May wilt and fade
With the passage of time

Each day we pass by glories
Rushing from here to there
Intent on the business of life
We fail to see the dance
Sway to the tune
Passersby
We miss the symphony
The poetry
And the song