Slow dance

I'm not one for chain letter e-mails. Don't particularly enjoy receiving them and I don't remember ever sending one. So rather than add to the clutter in anyone's mailbox, I'll just copy and paste a poem that a relative sent me and let the content speak for itself.

Allegedly, this poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York hospital and sent by a medical doctor. Supposedly, the American Cancer Society will donate 3 cents per forwarded e-mail to her treatment and recovery plan. I have my doubts about that. Nevertheless, I can't argue with the sentiment.

SLOW DANCE

Have you ever watched kids
On a merry-go-round?

Or listened to the rain
Slapping on the ground?

Ever followed a
butterfly's erratic flight?

Or gazed at the sun into the
fading night?

You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won't last.

Do you run through each day
On the fly?

When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?

When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed

With the next hundred chores
Running through your head?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won't last.

Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow?

And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?

Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die

Cause you never had time
To call and say, 'Hi'

You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.

Time is short.

The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift...
Thrown away.

Life is not a race.
Do take it slower

Hear the music
Before the song is over.

Photograph: Indiana University