When temptation
comes to knock,
do not get up–
nor even simply
to squawk,
“Who’s there?”

For it is said
the true root
of unhappiness
is mere desire. . .

And in this case,
where there’s smoke,
there’s likely also fire. . .

And fire warms,
but it may burn,
and while you’re still
held in its spell,
you may not
even care. . .

And, over years,
you slowly learn,

though temptation
jazzes you,
almost to the point
of feeling amorous,
yea, so much so
that you trip
a happy dance
almost as if
you danced on air,

on the long road
that is your life’s duration,
you are apt
to find more and deeper
in realms that feel less glamorous,
and, often, too, less clamorous,
when you fix your attention
mostly on the things and ones
for whom,
in fact,
you do most deeply care.

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

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