Still life

In the end it is an ordinary life;

I’ll leave the heroics to others.

 

The simple pleasure of a coffee

on the porch, to wash down a roll.

 

Coming home after work, entering

the house, fixing a cocktail,

 

greeting my wife after her day

at work, the pets greeting us

 

in their fashion. These form

the prelude to any decent life.

 

The sheer bravery to arise

every day and greet it with

 

something other than dread,

to face it with hope and glee.

 

Most are not made for the terror,

the thrill of the extreme;

 

a sick child, a dying parent,

the stack of bills frighten enough.

 

There’s no shame in that;

every life is a cry against the darkness.

 

Every day passed in peace

is a shaken fist against death.

 

Savor those moments of joy;

they will stand you when grief comes.

 

It will be the moment in the dark

where you hang on to that light,

 

reminding you that things pass

all in their time, all over again.

 

Seek danger if you wish; you’ll see

it will come, willed or not.

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4 thoughts on “Still life

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