"For Grammy" - Bahamas AI Art
©A. Derek Catalano
You Get What You Give
By the law of life, in ways unseen,
The balance strikes, both cruel and keen.
In the stillness of the waking dawn,
A truth unyielding, softly drawn:
The seeds you scatter, wide or thin,
Will sprout in kind, without, within.
The farmer knows, with furrowed brow,
The toil of then reflects the now.
He tills the soil, he prays for rain,
Yet knows neglect will yield him pain.
Each whisper cast, each deed bestowed,
Is but the start of what is owed.
A kindness offered, tender and pure,
Becomes a balm that will endure.
But bitter words and spiteful ways
Will mark the heart, erode the days.
For every slight, each cruel deceit,
Returns to haunt where shadows meet.
When laughter flows like streams in spring,
The echoes swell, the world will sing.
A gentle smile, a helping hand,
Can forge connections, vast and grand.
Yet greed, like roots that choke the earth,
Will sap the joy, diminish worth.
The gold amassed, the power claimed,
Turns cold and hollow, never tamed.
What you invest in fleeting gain,
Returns as ash, regret, or pain.
But love, when sown in fertile ground,
Will multiply and know no bound.
Consider this, when paths diverge,
And choice becomes a rising surge:
Will you destroy or will you heal?
What future grows from what you feel?
For fate is not some distant star,
Nor luck some wheel spun from afar.
It is the echo of your touch,
A mirror that reflects so much.
You get what you give; this life’s refrain,
A hymn of loss, a joy, a pain.
The giver blooms; the taker grieves—
This is the truth one must believe.
So build with hands, create with heart,
And let compassion be your art.
The world responds in equal tone—
A sacred bond, a debt you own.
If you wish for peace, then offer grace.
If you crave the sun, unmask your face.
A cycle ancient, ever just:
What’s earned returns, as all things must.
By the law of life, in ways unseen,
The balance strikes, both cruel and keen.
In the stillness of the waking dawn,
A truth unyielding, softly drawn:
The seeds you scatter, wide or thin,
Will sprout in kind, without, within.
The farmer knows, with furrowed brow,
The toil of then reflects the now.
He tills the soil, he prays for rain,
Yet knows neglect will yield him pain.
Each whisper cast, each deed bestowed,
Is but the start of what is owed.
A kindness offered, tender and pure,
Becomes a balm that will endure.
But bitter words and spiteful ways
Will mark the heart, erode the days.
For every slight, each cruel deceit,
Returns to haunt where shadows meet.
When laughter flows like streams in spring,
The echoes swell, the world will sing.
A gentle smile, a helping hand,
Can forge connections, vast and grand.
Yet greed, like roots that choke the earth,
Will sap the joy, diminish worth.
The gold amassed, the power claimed,
Turns cold and hollow, never tamed.
What you invest in fleeting gain,
Returns as ash, regret, or pain.
But love, when sown in fertile ground,
Will multiply and know no bound.
Consider this, when paths diverge,
And choice becomes a rising surge:
Will you destroy or will you heal?
What future grows from what you feel?
For fate is not some distant star,
Nor luck some wheel spun from afar.
It is the echo of your touch,
A mirror that reflects so much.
You get what you give; this life’s refrain,
A hymn of loss, a joy, a pain.
The giver blooms; the taker grieves—
This is the truth one must believe.
So build with hands, create with heart,
And let compassion be your art.
The world responds in equal tone—
A sacred bond, a debt you own.
If you wish for peace, then offer grace.
If you crave the sun, unmask your face.
A cycle ancient, ever just:
What’s earned returns, as all things must.
©A. Derek Catalano
