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Looking in the fireplace in an old house
Right by a lamp and piano
Dark and cold and dirty
But it was not always so
Long, long ago—
When this house was still a home
An orange flame would live in the fireplace—
It would glisten, shine, roam
Roaming across the logs of wood
Looking for fresh wood to devour
The flame will rise and fall
Gone, gone in an hour
All that is left there is
Some soot, some dirt, some ash
Staining the walls around
Like some ugly would or gash
Gone is the flame and fire
Left with the cinders and residue
How like human life this is
For death is not always to rue
We rise and fall, rise up again
Hurrying though to enjoy at the end
But then at the end of the journey
There is nothing left to commend
If you rush through life like a flame through wood
At the end there is no reward
You skip the things that will last forever
Your children have left, have soared
You've missed that great chance
To make a difference, if you could
But take your time and smell the roses
Take the chance to do something good
We all leave something behind
Be it ash or memories or a painting
Let your something be something useful or great
Make your life stain beautiful and touching
Fire will run through its course
Life will, too, though not so tame
And when all is done, the world,
The fireplace, will never be the same
Now I see the fireplace before me
Now I see the world all around
What will you leave behind?
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