Leaves

Should we be happy and in pleasure thrive
Without a shadow, without grief and pain?
We suffer much because we are alive

Even birth itself, some don’t survive
Loss of love hits like the icy rain
Should we be happy and in comfort thrive?

Into the monstrous ocean, we must dive
And learn to swim without time for complaint
We suffer so because we are alive

If one flower is open to the eye
That is  quite sufficient for the saint
Must we be happy always, when death thrives?

A printed book does not ache  with its pride
And if it’s  lost its ghost will seldom haunt
We suffer so because we are alive

Our life  to that  of all is close allied
The leaves upon the tree are  our last guide
Should we be happy and in constant pleasure thrive?
We suffer much because we are alive