When I was a rich man,

Words came easy,

But I wished them wilder

Movers and shakers.

What was, was enduring.

A year's hours were endless

For hope and reading.

I had a blue pebble,

And no pride, no panic.

Distance was nothing.

I thought the only

Hurt was to be lonely,

And hated the loss of

Fine living by death.

Of what refuses

The crazy question

No one had told me.

I would not be old.

I walked in green pastures

Dreaming of sometime.

When I was poor,

My words came slowly

But some of them iron.

Some had the ring of

A knife I had whetted.

I admitted murder

Might go unpunished.

I avoided travel.

I counted my heroes,

Including scarecrows,

And cut where I could.

Now I am neither

Rich man or poor man,

Beggar or captain,

I am harsh with writing

And it is not easy.

What is mine is lucky

And hard to pay for,

And no one may take it.

I think the only

Hurt is being lonely

Or nowhere needed.

I walk near wide waters.

Time is a treasure

Of sand in the fingers.

I have no magic

For the dead or the dying.

I cry, Come back!

But I know for misery

At night by the window

Some things helpful.

I have some answers

To the crazy question.

I grow, though slowly,

Deep and still deeper

In love always.

We have, not to hold,

Our young son laughing,

And the day's surprises

Keep us both living.

Still being stubborn

I know that I must be

John as they named me,

And shall not be old.

I travel more now,

But all roads come back.

Some doors are shut,

None open always.

Younger lives ask for

The best of my answers.

Nothing is wasted.

I cry at the corners

Of clouds and streets,

Nothing is wasted.

I spend myself knowing

Nothing is wasted.

But who gives answers

To the almost wise?

What tells the sure man

How to be sure?

When I am fed,

When I am given grace

For what is in my head,

When I can write

Both high and humble,

Then I shall know.

When I can say

In my work my own way

Why the living die,

Then I shall know.

Shall I know it then?

Yes, when I am stubborn

And lucky no longer,

When strength is stronger,

And no one is lonely,

When the only good

Is the fire in the word,

When there is nothing new

In love for us to do,

Or for anyone,

Then I shall know.

And life be begun again,

And this story done.