Abundant and full;
that of which we strive so hard,
trying to make each and every moment matter: bittersweet.
Life travels like an eagle,
traversing the horizon,
endless. Timeless.
A cycle we stumble and fall in,
to learn,
understand,
acknowledge,
flourish.
A race to have a moment of rest,
Which impossible entirely,
is as a retired epicure,
looking listlessly at the Zinfandel goblet,
half full still.
Life’s benevolence only hardens
as years pass by,
The austerity rises, avarice nourished
An enigmatic time, of which we may only close our eyes,
as the gracious sun sets.
Scared of the night sky,
we look towards the endless stars,
wishing they fervently guide us.
Memories influence our being,
happy,
sad,
angry,
hopeful.
Ripples which have formed from a rock,
skipping over tranquil waters,
like the obstacles that trip our being
in unexpected ways.
Recovered, we set out to start
a new disturbance in the water.
It leaves us sagacious,
taciturn,
and for a brief moment,
Our fear that the muses will cut
our golden thread of life,
we wish it be a reverie.
Its magnanimous efforts to please only fail,
If none can follow its destined path.
We become fallible,
frivolous.
Our scrupulous minds disabled,
like that of a newborn,
Neither caring nor considering,
Wishing to eat something to live,
wailing wildly until it has had its fill.
We are prey, the predator-Life,
never stopping until it has captured us,
one by one.
Like a rabid dog, we become crazy,
fanatical,
wild,
thoughtless.
Life takes a seat into our mind,
Controlling our thoughts,
actions,
our impassioned breath.
We survive, and struggle one,
its majestic force unfurling
every step of the way,
never stopping:
no clocks,
no timers,
each and every day, as we say:
“it goes on.”