-- A Sense of Completion --

By John Herlihy

We are born as tabula rasa,

A clean slate as empty as the night.

The narrative artfully or otherwise drawn,

On the parchment of our lives as light.

We take our example from the wind,

That never stops searching for its way.

Our shadows follow precisely in our footsteps,

Unfulfilled desires mute with nothing much to say.

The sun sets in the evening as a spectacle,

Its descent a flaming promise of ascent and return.

We too lie down at day’s end to rest,

But awaken and rise up again to resume life’s sojourn.

We observe the night sky with curiosity,

Wishing to be like those stars twinkling their light.

Across the eons of ages, they shine forth their luminosity,

To land in our eyes as fireflies of the darkest night.

We spend a lifetime of mystery in search of an answer,

All those questions set loose amid the infinity of stars.

Always hoping, always searching, and finally finding,

A sense of completion, always there, and finally ours.

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(c) John Herlihy 18 April 2019