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,
time borders.
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
or not.
We end up, what we are-
a little left of yellow.
Imperfection our lot,
acceptance, our grace.
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| Thoughts while pondering. Pondering by the lake. |
4 comments:
Lovely poem, thanks for sharing it!
Poetry is personal but sharing is a connection.
Thanks for your comment.
Well written, Wen. This time of life of being between generations and finding what are last quarter life will be like is challenging and exciting at times. I've been reading Carolyn Heilburn and Wallace Stegner. Do you have anyone you're reading now and recommend?
At this moment I am not reading, I did read Susan Monk Kidd's books- When the Heart Waits and Dance of the Dissident Daughter at the onset of menopause. They were very insightful- published before her fiction works.
Thank your for your comment!!
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