The Sun must rise. The skies will never cease
To open eyes to cries for life. For peace

The wind will blow. I know its wayward song
To come. To go. To grow. To carry on

The rain will fall, on all and everything
Its melody will call and life will sing

The flower in the field will yield its bloom
A daisy, blazing. Glory and then doom

And you and I will fly upon the view
And you and I will die as all must do

A small, bland, tall, grand flower. Life and birth
The last. The passing hour and the earth.