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Life, by Eva Zeisel (1950)

It’s Life you are living
and life is here.
It’s not sometime later,
it’s now, Jeannie dear.

It’s not a road
with beginning and end.
It leads not anywhere,
it’s the time you spend.

It’s life when the sun shines,
it’s life when it rains,
not where you are going,
but riding the trains.

Life is not a stamp collection
with glimpses of the past.
Life is in the present tense,
the memory while it lasts.

The cloud that hurries gently by,
the bunnies funny leaps,
if you hug them with your eye,
belong to you for keeps.

Don’t think that once will come a day
when all’l be rich and smart
and laughter will be here to stay,
and then real life will start.

Between the not yet gilded past
and the time for which we strive
lies, unnoticed and not to last,
the moment which is life.



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