when you were at your best

 the world was yours to find, and long before
someone like me happened across your path;
(the young man worries, 'how could such things be?';
the old man smiles at each age of you)

and this, this i embrace: this other time,
this other world, this other view, and pure,
the time of life-discovery and when
you found new joy for every loss of sure

and though the walk was long and lonely, oft,
there was the sand, the sea, the changing waves
that stood beside each storm or vista clean,
and welcomed you to each next unknown age

when you were at your best, it was just this:
that in this life, there's always strife with bliss

Published by

Beleaguered Servant

Owen Servant is an online poet working in a style that's been described as "compulsive". In real life, he is an actuary, because being a poet wasn't unpopular enough.

Leave a Reply