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.
Thank you, kind friend.
ReplyDeleteA 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.