Like beads are the years
that we string to make our lives.
Many times choosing the forms, weights, colors.
More often taking whatever is offered or found.
Your necklace seems of pearl
light and smooth.
Easy to the eye.
Mine, a patchwork of random creation.
Here, harmony.
There, mismatched and oddly combined.
But not unbeautiful.
A strong string runs through the middle of the two.
Faithfully bearing the uneven weight
and the growing heaviness
of our ever-filling lives
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 10:25 AM UTC
Like beads are the years
that we string to make our lives.
Many times choosing the forms, weights, colors.
More often taking whatever is offered or found.
Your necklace seems of pearl
light and smooth.
Easy to the eye.
Mine, a patchwork of random creation.
Here, harmony.
There, mismatched and oddly combined.
But not unbeautiful.
A strong string runs through the middle of the two.
Faithfully bearing the uneven weight
and the growing heaviness
of our ever-filling lives
Request permission to use this poem