....but they didn't believe
life was chancy and contingent
lofty words they displayed
priding in being intelligent

'all would be well, worry not
life is a rosy garden'
cruel storms came to lash
soon enough after such words were spoken-

the realist does take cognisance
nothing is ever permanent
all things are in ceaseless flux
beyond the brightest minds' discernment-

vulerable and brittle is our human condition
our joys, our hopes, our dreams are all transient
there's healing only in our love and devotion
amidst the dreadfulness and fragility so apparent.