The seasons turn and turn again
The days are flying by so fast
The future's questions looming large
Yet shadowed over by the past
And yet as still the world turns round
The bluebells bloom within the wood
Bright captured sky within the glade
Untouched by 'must' or 'can't' or 'should'
The bluebells bloom. The summer comes
And I have lived, and loved, and lost
And fallen from the sun-kissed heights
And stood while others paid the cost
From valley's depth to mountains tall
So weary are the feet that climb
So weary, and the road so long!
Yet take it one step at a time
Just one step at a time, my love
Through snow and wind and pouring rain
And hold within your doubting mind
The fact the bluebells bloom again.
You can't cross the same river twice. You can't undo what is done. Fifty years is far too short a span to do all that I want to do with my life, and I can't solve all the worlds problems single handedly. But I can return to the Lakes, and swim in cool water, and see the world stretched out and shining at my feet, and feel the sun and wind skirmish together over my face, and remember my love for God, and the world, and for all the people in it. Especially the ones who make such times happen. I am blessed.