The older we grow
without much questioning
we'd somehow come to know
that life isn't within our controlling

and wisdom lies in accepting
the flow of its tide in its inexorability -
what's the use then of sorrowing
over our very  vulnerability?

We will not rage nor complain
but to our humility serenely hold
in acknowledging that pain
is the heritage of us mortals all.

There's the morrow's each glorious dawning
and the calming of the mellow evening-fall
our heart should have no cause for despairing
as our past courage and patience we gladly recall.