In my sick days...

In my sick days, I learned to slow down. I laid down on my bed for a day long, watched the blue sky from my window, listened the CBC radio and fell into my dizzy dream...

























In my sick days, I read a nice poem written by a young ill girl:

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.