existential musings

Deep in the night, the fragility, the mystery of our tiny lives washes over me.

The futility of those strong, deep markers we draw into these lives, – like lines drawn on a sandy beach before the tide comes in.

Birth, education, family, friends, accomplishment, suffering, joy, death.

A sprinkling of decades, if we are lucky. Perhaps some laughter. Some joy. Some love. Less disease. Less failure. Less violence.

For myself, I don’t mind the mystery, the pain, the fear, the whistling of wind through vacant space.

For my child, my heart cannot bear to carry the burden of mortality.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s