I hide from lives, storm in a dale of incognito, gone is my name,
my gravestone will be free of a name and time of casting anchor.
Write I was a seaman cast ashore by a storm and could not return,
walking on the shore listen to the siren’s call and fond silence.
And perhaps a man who has lost everything in life is walking his
dog, picks up a shell and listen to eternities soothing drone.
And the dog which soul is transient and wander from generation
to the next will wag its tail in tender memory of your life.
Yet forever to its present owner which it knows is mortal and will
end up as a memory by Canis familiars not yet to be born.
But as long as dogs, that have thrown in their lot with man, roam
and survive, we shall be there as a testament to eternity.
When you look into a dog’s eyes, you’ll see a mirror and another
mirror and you will see the birth of humanity and kindness.
You will come to realise the only anchor you need is love of life,
and respect for all living creatures on our little blue planet.
