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.

29 April 2010

The End of the Line

This is where we have come to rest,
at the end of a leafy cul-de-sac
in sight of the ranges that mark the border
between one state and the next.

This is where we expect to enjoy
the rest of our lives in these bodies:
at the top of a small hill, high enough
to feel removed yet accessible still.

You could say we have come
to the end of the line, or close.
I see it rather as a crossing-place
to stay in and savour before we go on.

April PAD Challenge 28
Prompt: The end of the line


  1. like the poem.

    so far as the idea, I savour far ahead of that line and more insistently so each year because once the line in sight, blindness and confusion of night may be too heavy upon us to appreciate anything except the appetite for the other side.

  2. I like to be thoroughly in each stage a sit happens. But then, I am in the fortunate position of being a psychic medium, with many questions about the other side already answered, and content to let it come when it will.

    However you are right about the way old age can be experienced, and perhaps that will come to me too, and we'll see how I savour that!