Meet your Deadline, again

There is so much anxiety in the process of getting old,
like having mountains as only horizon.

Reaching the Peak of the Thirties, as there is nowhere else you can go,
You realise the valley dives down and meets the beginning
of another mount, leading to yet another summit.


You take a breath and somehow, finally approach it
Thinking you’ll meet your deadline,
As you walk the path, anxiety builds up

One more time, on the Peak of the Fifties, nothing really happens.
After youhave rambled over 6 or 7 mounts, you may start seeing
There is no such thing as a final horizon


Some people, after a only a few peaks, can make out the patterns of the path
And through the mist, they smile to the Everafter

 

Franck Joseph

©FJ July 2020 – All rights reserved.

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