Accepting an Unfinished Life

Sometimes change happens so fast you don’t even notice . . .however accepting life's changes as reality, can be a slow and self-loathing process . . . we are always as blind as we want to be. 

Regrets are a waste of time that can leave you standing alone at the crossroads at the end of that day when the sun goes down. . .

Many footprints are left behind

the countless miles of pathways

traveled throughout an unfinished life.

Barefoot traces of past now’s

wind through the ashes,

as the smoldering embers

of a turbulent past boundlessly linger.


Oppressive signs of crawling

on bruised and battered knees

remain engraved in the dusty wake,

knowing a sense that the squandered energy

trying to shed this calloused skin was wasted in vain

Black and white snapshots frozen in time,

vividly retell the incised memory,

when it was as if there was no longer

valid reasons to believe, as forward steps circled


Unable to beckon the strength to defy gravity,

to rise from kneeling on bended knees

with the resolve to stand humbly tall,

while leaning towards the faltering light

Hesitation mired hopeful new strides

crossing the uncharted threshold

into the void reaching beyond nebulous darkness


There were times when wanderlust blisters bled raw

and thread bare socks wrung red

Holes in the soles of worn out boots

overwhelmed an unforgettable crippling agony

Distraction numbed the forgotten heartbreak

that enshrouded the torn, reducing life back

to the beginning miles,

when thoughts of mere baby steps was existence


There are days spent suspended

at friendless crossroads,

overwhelmed by indecision’s

daunting toll,

only to take the wrong turns

foolishly pushed by a faith

in the winds of change


The low road was recklessly chosen,

where the shade in the shadows

of the gutter, would not hide the burning ache;

days of running blissfully free upon the high road

were short-lived, as the loneliness of isolation

became too much weight to bear


Infinitely searching for an ambiguous sense

of ever belonging, as the notion evolved

into an unattainable, unrealistic destiny.

An emotionally perplexing feeling

overshadows an uncompleted journey;

a misunderstood lifetime journey

viewed from the corner of veiled, curious eyes

spanning the cradle to the grave .


All the while,

slowly growing to understand,

it is better to adapt, accept

you may never fulfill a certain

quest for an illusive congruence anywhere,

ne'er trusting the mind made illusion,

thinking you could, yet feeling adapting

was another word for giving up


One day awakening to discover. . .

There becomes a need to cope with

the disappointment when life unveils

the end of the day . . .

In a conscious moment of listening

to the silent stillness within,

realizing you never will...




© Harlon Rivers