Misspent time is a shame…..but forgivable
At youth’s sad ending dreams are not supreme
All fade away in the resplendent light
the young from birth possess and think beseemed
With fresh, jejune bravado and their bright
new pretty plumage there’s no time to think
of broken halos and life’s fleeting blink
But not all sweat and blood
Some, during their middle years in secret ways
will pardon sloth if they fail reaching port
as they laid idle in fair winds for days
For others, work is their benign consort
The ethic of their labor is a vow,
to earn their bread by sweat upon the brow
All fall down….with hoped for grace
Our gloaming years run forward with new haste
The years fly past like winds across the plains
We rush pell-mell like lemmings in a race
to meet the dragon in the land he reigns
The end of life is the last stepping stone
to the great mystery we must face alone