Mid the din of youth’s cascading
exuberance
Strong and beautiful and smooth
to the right and left
Bright faces shining in
directions many
The rhythm of the drum shakes the
floor, the soul
The menagerie of bodies uplifts
the spirit
Within the lively cathedral of
the lowly aged
Where hope abounds outwardly and
esteem collapses inward
Your story is no different
A wallflower of sorts – eyes upon
the lively figures, the ears attend to every syllable
The skin to excitement and the
heart racing to and fro’
An outward appearance of
connection and enjoyment
Covering the inner turmoil of
being within yet without
The stark impetus of time rolling
relentlessly onwards
To make fear home in the heart
To sense your mortality waning
Feet rooted to the spot
The brief sensational nirvana
rears an ugly visage
Regret of not pushing the bounds
Hurt of not reaching across the
chasm
Inner death for lack of bodily
fluidity
You slip away
The wallflower, now the flower on
the river
Flowing away from the life
Streaming to the space of
desolate solitude
For the contemplations and
thoughts to consume the last light within
