LIVES DO

When the exulting rainbow

               begins to mourn you,

And the smiling sun cries

    in all the world who lives is you,

When its tears flooded the mountains

         and the roof and the surfaces,

Sprained, strained, let not colors

                 scarce the faces.

When you found out yourself

              in the brink of giving up,

For the sweat has no cloth

              nor the hair has a cut,

Let not yourself without a feat and go,

Consider the posterity you’re tasked to.

When aftermath comes, be not too fast,

                 be not too high,

Don’t strut, don’t boast with a mock sigh,

Live not as if it’s done through,

Though soul end not after jubilation

          nor affliction nor the next you.

© 2017