Sitting on the Edge,
of this thing called Life.
People live, people die and then
there's the space of in-between.
The moments of wandering,
edge to edge,
Brackets our little space
here on planet reality.
Have I done my best? Could I have done better, more?
What would that have looked like?
What difference would it have made?
We all have regrets in the end.
Choices made, Paths followed
We end up, what we are-
a little left of yellow.
Imperfection our lot,
acceptance, our grace.
|Thoughts while pondering. Pondering by the lake.|