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.