This Poem was Submitted By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2004-02-23 18:10:18 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Once upon a time

Snuggled amongst the verdant trees Of primeval land A man ponders the richness of it all He doesn’t feel comfortable As he does in his own skin It is still too new and he has yet To make his mark Upon a new reality There is no purpose No depth to his inner self A torment of fears flood his essence Wondering what the days will bring Until he faces the finality of it all And the curtain goes down for one Last hurrah The sages through the ages have Pondered and written about it all  There is nothing new Where is the challenge? What else can he do to enrich the Only world he knows? The depth is levelling out As the sky meets the sea So too does reality as the sun sets On a life fulfilled yet not over Can this be all there is? One more mountain will not be climbed Nor will the depth of the ocean be apprised For he has no gear The sick and the dying will be without him The hallowed halls will remain with their ghosts He has trod them one last time Alone in his solitude Revering what he once had and What went on before There is no trumpet call At least not yet There is no sight of the end At least not yet Yet he is not alone But in his own mind One more river to cross One more mountain to climb? One more desert to ponder Before the unknown of tomorrow Peace will come to him in due course Peace will come

Copyright © February 2004 arnie s WACHMAN

Additional Notes:
This was written 6 months ago upon my retirement as a Nurse for the last 25 years. I had forgotten about it, and just found it today. I thought it was worthy of posting.


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