Some do dying hard
with pain and fear;
sometimes it’s slow
and exhausting.
I heard of a woman ...
but I won’t tell you that.
Her story horrifies.
I heard of a man ...
his makes me weep.
Some on the other hand
do living hard. Pain can be
a lifetime companion.
Sight or movement
may be lost. Or perhaps
one endures great sorrow.
I don’t know what works
in these conditions.
What would I or anyone
do to maintain a self?
I might learn to pray.
As it is, I know myself
blessed to be alive
and doing it, not easy
not hard, just peacefully.
NaPoWriMo Day 14
I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')
These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
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wow, yours is good place to be.
ReplyDeleteYes indeed. (Except when it's not that.)
ReplyDelete