Fearful of death,
determined to live forever,
impossibly worried,
blind by half,
we scurry through
the scattered alleys of life.
In our time of youth,
not enough time,
rarely enough money,
hardly enough love,
grasping at ends,
scarcely ever enough.
Adulthood
finds us pursuing religion,
politics and careers,
running downhill,
fornicating,
procreating,
recreating,
scorched in a pyre of ignorance,
tangle-fires of youth.
We struggle to earn enough,
be enough,
realize we haven’t learned enough,
paid enough attention before,
thought we knew it all,
frustrated
that our children know too much
about the wrong things,
refuse to listen
to what we have learned.
Nearer to and acutely aware of death,
fearful there is not time enough
to protect and teach them to survive,
we worry the empty rooms
of elders passed.
Graying and balding,
regretting, forgetting,
slowing, going down,
sentimentally elemental,
we are overcome
by chance thought
that what has been
may be enough.
Our spirits prepare us to journey,
leave our feet behind
on worried paths we have trod.
We begin to remember
cocoon water births
with new eyes,
caress what is left,
our lovely children and life mates,
that we may tell them in our going
the joy of knowing
they are the all and ever,
more than enough.
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