The cold of late fall

Is upon me

The dread of winter

To follow

The months and years pass

Almost as fast as the leaves of fall

Pass outside my window

Some are a lovely gold

Some a beautiful red

And some a dismal brown

Much like the years that have passed

But with the years

More are brown then gold or red

Life ‘tis what it ‘tis

We struggle against it

We complain about it

But the bottom line is

We must accept it

Because the alternatives

Not stated here

But you know what they are

We’re all adults here

Lead to ruin

I am at low ebb

The tide line is an infinite distance from the shore

For what reason

People protect me from what I should know

??????

When

It’s not there

It’s not there

When

It is there

It is there

Today

It wasn’t there

Tomorrow it might be

Life

Is what it is

Don’t try to understand

I am more tired

More in pain

Then I ever would have though

My body is dying

Is in distress

I falling apart as I speak

But the spirit

My soul

That which defines me

Is stronger

Is more alive

Then I have felt in 1000 years

My weirdness is confirmed

On many levels

This should be

One of a handful

Of the worst

Days

Of my life

And yet

It may prove

In the long run

To be

One

Of the best

Wait for it

Wait for the drum roll

Watch for the sound of the horns

Woodwinds responding

Will the strings respond?

Will the conductor

Wave his button

Will it have meaning?