I will be, and will not be again.
This, I accept.
Many I have loved have moved on;
Some without warning or
Time for preparation.
This, I accept.
Many who have loved me have
Drifted off; sometimes love
Participates in temporality.
This, I accept.
We strive; we feel pain.
Our intentions run afoul of
The intentions of others, and even
Of the contrary intentions of
Nature, herself.
This I accept.
Acceptance is not wisdom,
But it is the door to wisdom;
One day, this striving will cease,
And we must redefine ourselves
Through a new set of limitations.
This, too, I accept.
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Tagged: Tags Meditation Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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