deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Journey
In the beginning all is new,
Our lives are filled with first events:
The first snow, the first summer,
The first maternal smile of boundless love.
As we grow up, we see the start of things around us:
A road built, a new hotel or store,
A clever new device to enhance our lives,
Which skip along, bright with novelty and innovation:
New feelings, new success, and then: first love.
But, cruelly, we start to see the ends of things:
Love fades, our bright ambitions come to nought,
What we saw built, we now see brought to dust.
Our parents grow enfeebled, pass away,
And then mortality taps us on the shoulder -
A friend dies.
So what to do? Take refuge in despair?
Pursue the dress, the speech, the styles of youth
In hopeless, sad and foolish self-deceit?
No - look around, enjoy the time you have,
And revel in the things you’ve seen along the way;
Accept your age, it too is part of life.
Our lives are filled with first events:
The first snow, the first summer,
The first maternal smile of boundless love.
As we grow up, we see the start of things around us:
A road built, a new hotel or store,
A clever new device to enhance our lives,
Which skip along, bright with novelty and innovation:
New feelings, new success, and then: first love.
But, cruelly, we start to see the ends of things:
Love fades, our bright ambitions come to nought,
What we saw built, we now see brought to dust.
Our parents grow enfeebled, pass away,
And then mortality taps us on the shoulder -
A friend dies.
So what to do? Take refuge in despair?
Pursue the dress, the speech, the styles of youth
In hopeless, sad and foolish self-deceit?
No - look around, enjoy the time you have,
And revel in the things you’ve seen along the way;
Accept your age, it too is part of life.
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