-- Making Sense of Things --
John Herlihy
As much as we may forever try,
We don’t always make sense of things.
An abundance of hopes that never happen,
A wealth of desire, thimbles never filled,
Happiness so fleeting, while sorrow so permanent.
Time that often seems too big, an eternity,
Or alternatively narrow and closed, an infinity.
How one day we awaken, so eager and ready,
Yet another day we awaken, feeling impending dread,
Not to mention how we try to make sense of God.
Of silence, of emptiness, or loneliness,
Who can fathom the ocean and its depths.
Why some people only seem to cast shadows,
While others sparkle with flickering lights,
To make sense of our moods, worries, fears.
The mysteries of the world hold us in suspense,
To make sense of certain things that make no sense.
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I (c) John Herlihy 20 July 2020
Rebecca
Sandie