as our life goes on,
grows long,
at different points
in different ways we’re weak
and strong,
so different things
seem hard or easy. . .

Different tastes
and different ways
into our bodies
enter in–

What once confused us,
to present eyes
appears so clear,
and what
was then clear
may now look hazy. . .

We may now crave
a blood red rose,
whereas, then,
the flower that pleased us most
was the simple, wheel-shaped,
white and yellow daisy. . .

And when we think
about the stuff
we used to eat and drink,
or what we used to
like to
or be
or think,
we may,
with perfect clarity,
be moved to say,
“What were we?–

It sure is funny,
but still,
all the same,
in fact,
we are both now,
and were back then,
most certifiably quite sane–

But our bodies
and our spirits
so develop
that they move
in a different vein,
so we must
ever navigate
a different kind of balance,

and always notice
what now are
the kinds of ease
we truly need,
and discern the path
upon which lies
the time and place
and nature
of our next
highest calling,
and its propelling challenge.

This entry was posted in Poetic Musing (Longer Poems), Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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