A Collection of Simple Truths
By John Herlihy

All I want in my complex life
. . . . . is a collection of simple truths,
Guidance that will always confirm
. . . . . what the law of averages proves.
Surely, elements of common sense exist
. . . . . that I can fully rely upon.
Truths simple enough to prove their point
. . . . . without being dissected or spied upon.

There will be a time of hardship
. . . . . followed by a time of plenty.
There will be months of failure and struggle
. . . . . followed by months with next to no trouble.

Moods will assault us
. . . . . as if there were no tomorrow.
There will be days of joy and happiness
. . . . . and there will be days of despair and sorrow.

The mind is never at rest
. . . . . and will always be put to the test.
Within the heart lies hidden a cave
. . . . . that with love can be turned into a holy nave.

The future never arrives early
. . . . . and waits for no one on the way.
The past always seems to be with us
. . . . . . the past never really goes away.

Yesterday bids goodbye from the distance;
. . . . . it gives up the ghost with very little resistance.
Tomorrow always arrives punctually on time,
. . . . . then disappears with a lingering chime.

Time has nothing to say;
. . . . . but simply beats along its own way.
Time drags during feelings of distress;
. . . . . but speeds up when we become free of duress.

The seasons alternate in their turn,
. . . . . each one expresses their own unique sojourn.
The phases of the moon wax and wane,
. . . . . while we here on earth feel pleasure and pain.

Spring opens the heart of the earth with its simple brilliance,
. . . . . attesting on the heels of winter the truth of the earth’s resilience.
Summer dresses itself in oriental silk;
. . . . . it displays a richness akin to full cream milk.

Autumn blushes all the colors of the red-orange-yellow spectra,
. . . . . as it takes us by the hand along the avenue of the Via Dolorosa.
Winter chills the land as much as it chills the heart;
. . . . . snow falls graciously, but icicles drip and the ice breaks apart.

Nature never changes and will always remain the same,
. . . . . down thru history, its narrative never feels any shame.
The sun rises and sets with a regularity that is bold;
. . . . . this flaming orb is faithful to the earth and will never grow old.

The world follows its orbit and suffers no blame,
. . . . . it never veers it course and always stays the same.
Recorded history just seems to repeat itself in a familiar range,
. . . . . it’s the seasons that always seem fresh and subject to change.

At some point in time, we end up feeling lost,
. . . . . abandoned on a vast sea, by the waves roughly tossed.
At other points in time, we end up feeling found,
. . . . . our destiny makes sense, we feel tightly bound.

We could go on forever elaborating upon life’s simple truths;
. . . . . they fit comfortably in our lives like a pair of well-worn shoes.
We need to reach a conclusion and give up our feelings of dread;
. . . . . otherwise, we would fall off the edge into an abyss instead.
Let us open ourselves up to the blessings that we rightfully deserve;
. . . . . let us surrender ourselves to the insights these truths preserve.