About all that has passed and all that will come.
Dates have no meaning, in this fast paced life
racing by relentlessly - another page on the calendar.
Conversations and classes marking the days.
Only to be a stoic old story creeping through the mind.
When youth turns to lust, for the younger days behind.
But age does is not frightening - to those who can see,
that life is a great story - no more and no less.
Truth is skewed by years that have passed
The only thing that survives is the meaning.
So what constitutes meaning?
Is it measured in success?
Or is it the efforts that go towards a success.
That may or may not come true - but the stories
always do. Life's not predictable enough to follow through.
exactly as planned, fantasized, or prepared.
Twists and turns like water in a crack;
It spreads about evaporating into the air.
With nothing left but a dim little stain.
What a beautiful night - to sit here and think.
About all that is and that is not.
No comments:
Post a Comment