Transition (75 Years)


By: - Oct 28, 2015

Transition (75 years)


Of anxiety
Wake me
At 3:00AM
They toss across my bed
And stream like
A scenic engine
Through the towns and cities
Of my meetings with cows|
Of my marriages
Of my losses where
Identity is always shifting.

The Buddha suggests
That I remain still
At the center,
Knowing myself best there
Touching the ground
Of being.
But there is only routine
The daily reminders
Of smell, of light, of
The footfall of a friend.
A hero I’m not reaching
The void of time-passed
I meet children
I have missed knowing in
Engendered familiarity within
A short crescendo.
Has it been enough
To savor?

My life is made
Each day I
Pull the line through.
Whatever pieces
Haven’t fit the puzzle
Shine with certainty
That there is lineage
Meandering where once
Only a forest stood.