Small life

Having come far, friend

sit down for a cup of tea

and some biscuits

those cookies are soggy

but the heart is warm

the hand is willing to hold

tired your feet looks for rest

your mind the wanderer

seeks comfort

when the azure sky turns grey

when the bright breeze turns cold

let there be a shoulder to lean

a wall to steady you

come sit down by the hearth

do we need to sing to love music

or dance to love arts

or write to love books

perhaps not

so just be

be.