It is the same familiar stretch of road
Reminiscent of things I vaguely remember
in stages,
Insignificantly, I feel further each time!
A progressive walk,
A jog,
I'm sure I must've been sprinting at times.
I'm out of breath!
Tired...
I am barely managing the walk these days
taking one heavy step after the next,
Less anticipating, and eager
Less energetic, and inspired
It is the same course
With no visible end or ambition of its own.
Though I do not look as lively in the mirror
It is relentless, indifferent,
And indignantly generated by life's obligation.
As my ambiguity, and futility perspire
I fear to stop and give turn to another.
I have reluctantly come to love this antiquated road
Giving pulse to my existence,
It's so important for our lives to have substance. A life without meaning is definitely not worth living. I love your word usage. I was, I am, I will be; If these are only words than they mean nothing. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
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It's so important for our lives to have substance. A life without meaning is definitely not worth living. I love your word usage. I was, I am, I will be; If these are only words than they mean nothing. Peace, Love and Blessings Always, Paul.