At the end of the day when I contemplate
Its highs, its middles and lows
I find myself neither smiling
Or moaning a song of woe

I do not feel disappointment
When I fall and break a wing
I'll tarry for just one moment
Till resolve calls me back to the Thing

And when there are Hallelujahs
And the mass of Creation applauds
All things being equal
In the crowd there are certainly frauds

When you string them fully together
The good, the neutral, the bad
It's easy forgetting to remember
Whatever it was that you had


Written by Sara Fielder © Feb 2012