the end of our exploring

a life is measured not in years but deeds
we listen to the music and are glad
what's true has meaning and is not a fad

we tell the cultivars from the hard weeds
each hillside is in autumn colours clad
a life is measured not in years but deeds

we make the step between desires and needs
not one was jealous of what others had
to truest feeling no one needs to add
a life is measured not in years but deeds