Imagine That
He looked at life through polished glass,
refracting every tone and hue.
He took his time for life to pass,
imagining a longer view.
Befitting beauty, flowers die
as they with early winter meet,
though wither comes, the loving eye
imagines blossoms ever sweet.
Eternal, lyrical and young
we must at last admit his means.
His sweetest song upon our tongue
through all the seasons, all the scenes
will live forever. Though we cried--
imagine that he never died.
~ John Lennon 1940-1980
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