Tomorrow Let it Be
I don’t think I’ll be here long, till 65 or 63 That’s less than 8 or 10 years Of the Best of Me
It could turn out it’s longer, we’ll just have to see Either way it’s different now, than 25 or 23
I could imagine a few decades, to sail with friends at sea I’d believe that to console myself from reality
I’ve got four kids to think about from twenty to ten-three When the youngest’s twenty too — then what am I to He?
For them I would imagine a system beyond me I’d dedicate my every day to crafting that story
Well sure! Some did this before, it’s there to plainly see Everything passed down to us from our family
The vines with fruits are sweeter for the gardener’s care The water flows, a Good Tree grows to fill the earth with air
So… If I have left, a single day, tomorrow let it be What would I do this time today, With the Best of Me?
From the Acknowledgements of Zen and the Art of [nothing] by John Zdanowski & Jeff Abrams.