I am old enough to remember
So many things, so many things:

The blackbirds singing in the morning,
Cicadas taking wing,

The scent of thunderstorms,
The yellow-jacket's sting.

So much we leave behind, so much
Is fastened to us, unwilling;

Yet as the years advance, we learn that
Urgently we must sing

Of morning and the noon-hour,
Green, sacred evening.

May Time dole out some mercy,
To the young, as we are leaving.

- 2008

Will Barber

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-hopes/