it matters not when life begins or ends; it is the in between the crooked path, the highs, the lows as most lives go, pendulums swing and we obsess in the extremes but that’s not where the rubber hits the road, i’m told, steady as she goes, the wise have said, don’t lose your head, don’t sweat the insignificant, but who’s to say what matters most at end of day if truth be told, if truth exists the rights, the wrongs the reasons why we fight and fret and lean toward right or left, it is the middle, we forget, where time is present, neither here nor there, where god, if god exists, is love, is everywhere, where grace flows freely, despite who, what, why, or where you’ve been, can we just close our eyes, pretend it matters not the second life begins or ends, it is, as it has always been, the in between
the hazing starts when we are girls, sheltered from the outside world where monsters claim the unsuspecting we fledge our natal nests expecting limitless opportunity… too soon smacked by reality that most of us will just make do while fate rewards a chosen few we learn to make the best of it find happiness in simple shit work our fingers to the bone and if we’re lucky build a home find love, companionship, have kids for most of us, that’s all there is and it’s enough, we tell ourselves our dreams collecting dust long-shelved our parents didn’t mean to lie they hoped we’d crack the ceilinged sky but we were set up from the start ensuring disappointed hearts only to learn life’s bittersweet where happiness and sorrow meet and if we live to see old age our minds intact, our bodies razed as memories flash in our mind’s eye at least we can admit we tried, gave it all we had and then some fought to glimpse another sun though life is messy, it is all hard to let go when the sickle falls
who among us will tell the bees the honey-hoarder will not leave holed up deep within his hive a brooding lump, by all despised, but for the few who fill his head with lies of victory instead they cannot hide the sting of truth surely they know, they’ve seen the proof alas, a new bee-keeper waits his calm voice speaks of love not hate in empathy he rends his heart he understands us, every part and promises to heal our soul to care for us, his only goal… who will tell the bees it’s done disgrace has lost, decency’s won so they won’t leave us, so they’ll stay to fill our honey jars of clay to fill our lives with sweetness too with all that’s good and right and true
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