Life is what it is.
We have to go
from where we are. . .

For, though
we rush to start
from any other where,
we really have no footing there. . .

And so,
that means for us
ahead to skip,
though we may thus
as in a flying bubble,
a thrilling roller coaster bump,
or while speeding as a radar blip,
quite giddy then. . .

at some point,
we’ll be bound to slip. . .
and won’t get very far.

And while it’s great
to navigate
by staring up at stars,
we still will
have to cross the gate
that opens
where we are.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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