In the end we are the sum
total of the efforts we invested,
or conversely our failed deficiency
in that regard. With no one to
appreciate or blame, but ourselves.

The path strewn with hurdles and gravels
40 years is a long way to travel
Two souls sewn with love and peace
Two hearts dipped in bliss
Two minds not always in same strength
But determined within to walk the length.

40 years of building the nest
Patience and endurance put to hard test
Before one day the saplings become a tree
Heart upon heart two becomes three
Through fall and rise and sun downpour
Years flew as the three becomes four.

It's no easy work to raise a family
In all sadness live strong and happily
Blocks are thrown doubts are cast
Moments of life try to break the trust
But we didn't bow continued the thrive
A grownup family now, we number five.

That old clock is ticking away,
the days bleed on one into another,
mostly all the same, nothing much
new to report here. I do what I can,
what my aged body will allow.
A limited return on my investment
I guess, but still finding little joys
that sustain me, mostly given up
on big dreams and illusions, anyway
being rich and famous was never on
my wish list agenda, all in all it's been
a very good run, with strong family
love given and received, our linage
prospers and continues, that is after
all the only real reason any of us, man
bird or beast were put on this earth.

To believe otherwise is but a
human delusion that in the end
matters not in the least.

Winter chills have come a little early,
the Cascade mountains to the east
covered with fresh snow, a warming
blaze in my fireplace, the first of the
season, I sit content with a hot mug
of tea, life is good and now returned
to mostly normal.

I do so enthusiastically enjoy normal.

Life is about giving
back instead of taking.
I took a lot all my life,
apathetic and selfish.
When I see people today,
they don't look like marks.
I don't think about what I
can take from them.
They are God's handiwork.

Life is strange and short.
I couldn't have caused this
inner transition.
I always subscribed to
morality in theory.
Thank God,
the blind still receives sight.

Sometimes, acquaintances will say
that I've grown soft
as they turn to green jello, right
before my eyes.

I knew there was a turn
but it never turned up
and I kept walking straight
in search of it.

The road was familiar
the turn was on the left
in every known way
yet in the broad daylight
it left me.

I know you wouldn't believe it
neither did I
as alike a puzzled wayfarer
I kept on looking for the turn.

It happened to me.
P'raps it happens in other lives too,
the turn always there
keeps eluding.

Then when found,
it's no longer needed.