A rather personal reflection on this my ‘umpteenth’ birthday-
Why is it people rarely know their bliss Until by loss or leaving, it is gone?
Want nothing that they have, till, losing it. And, beckoned by illusion-ever on?
Thus, I attempt to use my slender wit, Upon the pattern of my own affairs. And why I strain my senses to distill The last, faint flavor of each transient day, An active mind and spirit shall fulfill All thoughts, all quests, all feelings while they may.
1 comment:
Thank you, kind friend.
A rather personal reflection on this my ‘umpteenth’ birthday-
Why is it people rarely know their bliss
Until by loss or leaving, it is gone?
Want nothing that they have, till, losing it.
And, beckoned by illusion-ever on?
Thus, I attempt to use my slender wit,
Upon the pattern of my own affairs.
And why I strain my senses to distill
The last, faint flavor of each transient day,
An active mind and spirit shall fulfill
All thoughts, all quests, all feelings while they may.
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