Once one harvests one's own garden, what is there left in life?
The end of even a life well-lived seems to be full of strife.
Is there anything that is to be one's highest priority
Once, from the tending of one's responsibilities, one is set free.
What's a parent to do once the resources one had have all been sown,
And not only one's children, but also one's grandchildren, are grown?
If many seeds we have spread on the earth have withered and died,
Should we hang our heads in shame or be satisfied that we tried?
And are we to speak about the beauty of the seeds that have bloomed;
Is it prideful to celebrate the success of that for which we were groomed?
How do we know for certain what we are called to continue to do?
For not only prophets, but servants and parents, the honors at home are few.
Are we to silently sit and wait until we receive a new command,
Or are we to begin to create and follow our own new life's plan?
Even for volunteering, there's a resource price to be paid,
And the thought of outliving our resources can cause us to feel afraid.