And So With Life

Fools quaff their wine
In anxious hurried gulps,
And, in their haste,
Spill half the precious stuff
Upon their shirt fronts.
Staining there a blotch of red
As deep as any heart’s blood;
Thus marking them as wastrels
Filled with greed and lust.

Wise men diffuse their drink
Over a length of days,
And quench their thirst,
Not once, but many times,
Without men knowing they have drunk.

INSPIRATION (A Poetry Magazine)