Don't Sweat The Small Stuff

As you travel Down that old road And the years just pass you by Like so many rocks and stones, On an old desert road. And somewhere up ahead, Far beyond the haze, Beyond the gullies and the washes, You see the tall figure, With that big knife, His black robes blowing, In the desert wind, And you realize, That the small things Don't matter. That they've never really, Mattered at all. Like the clothes you wear, Or the car you drive, Or the house you live in, Or what you had, For supper last night. Who cares? Who really gives a rats hairy ass? Not the tall guy with the big knife, In the black robes. He definitely does not. He does not discriminate, He is an equal opportunity guy. After all, You are dressed, You get around, You have a roof over your head, (Some people don't) You eat (Some people don't) And sometimes those that don't, Are happy to see the tall guy. Maybe they know something, That you don't. Years go by fast. Very fast. Just like the rocks and stones, On a desert road, As you walk on by. Before you know it, There are a ton on your back, And you are bent, and grey, and old. And you are angry, and frustrated at life, And you frown all the time, and grumble, And are as sorry as can be. Dont, don't be that way. Smile at the tall guy with the knife, He never was your enemy, He is really an old acquaintance From way back. we are old friends, Him and us. And after all, Its just his job. A wise man, who I loved dearly, Once said something to this affect, To be a part of something good in life, So that we might leave something good, For the ones left behind. Which loosely translated means, Don't sweat the small stuff. Peace my brothers and sisters. 4/22/2016 Twentynine Palms California.