Quietly I stand aside and allow my life to pass me by.
There is little fight left in these bones, poor will, faded hope.
Pain and poverty and past tense points converge
into dark pools of tears and fears of repeating the theme.
Reflections in the deep of more… What preceded this night?
Quietly, bitter sweet and slow to come to focus,
memories rise of the joys. These emerge
and sparks of beauty, in these times of sorrow, glow.
Reminders that I mattered; then, now, and next.
Reflections of a rising sun…There is more?
Weary traveler, I yet see the journey is incomplete.
Healing, treasured and rich, and time permits divergence
Quietly, I rise to doggedly press on, before the night comes.