Monday blues

To hope is to believe there’s something more
Than this; a higher state worth striving for
And, longed-for long enough, will come. But I
Have seen enough of life to hear the lie
In shrill assurances of better days
Ahead. No; Fate contrives a thousand ways
To pin us where we are, whatever we
May think or do, attempt, aspire to be.
To hope is to persuade ourselves that things
Could work out as we’d want them to. Truth brings
No comfort, merely vinegars the pain
And taints the smiling dawn with threat of rain.
All I have learned in years of wishful thought
Is that we’re Fortune’s chattels, cheaply bought
And sold upon her whim. So this is it:
Where, what and how, I cannot change one bit.
I’m sorry, Hope, it’s over. Though we tried
So hard, I know that I belong beside
Your sister, dull Acceptance; plain, it’s true,
But honest. You’ll see: I’ll get over you.

 
 

Feeling a bit Monday-ish this morning. But this too shall pass. N.

Back to life

 

So now the dream is passing once again
Into the shadows, and my soul is still.
I dodged the bullet: no rash moves, no pain
Or harm done – this time – by my fickle will.
I guess I’m grateful all is now serene
And ordered, as it was a week ago
Before thoughts of what-if and might-have-been
Burst through, disrupting life’s safe, simple flow.
It may be weeks, months – years – till they return
But I must be prepared in heart and mind:
Count blessings, look around me, breathe, and learn
To live the here-and-now, not look behind.
For all is well, and I have many ways
Of finding space and daring in my days.