I look behind me and I see a trail
That winds from
love to love and loss to loss,
Where “I succeed” is so close to “I fail”
The distance can
be bridged by a coin toss.
And up ahead: the trail I’ve yet to blaze,
A tangled wild
from which I hope to make,
In the full time of my remaining days,
A path between
miracle and mistake.
I will die walking it, this incomplete
Track that will be
completed by my death.
So I sit here a while to rest my feet.
I take a look
around. I take a breath.
And slowly,
slowly, count to sixty-two;
And only then,
start walking somewhere new.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells
No comments:
Post a Comment