Well gentle and receptive soul, awake again am I tonight much later than I ought, no peaceful sleep will come for hours more. Recent talk with dear old widows, alone and sad, and of old men going to their deaths. Knowledge from the tree of life requires my thought.
A wide path for me ahead but with no clear destination seen. No shining goals or glory in sight. Must needs I consider and will cause labors that does but little to satisfy for needs not met. Friends I desire of but have not met.
Yet for now I am still alive, older in spirit than my years and with an admiring and kindred heart. With love both given and received, fed for now, sheltered, but tired. Ever in appreciation for life's small pleasures, for gains of good tidings and friendships sought and the sun.
I shall travel on and then pass, like the others, missed for a while and then gone. Stories and fates yet unknown, one step then another and life's events taken and received, relished or repelled. No passion nor strength have I for power or fame and delusion. I do not feel lonely but sad, for what could have been or should and understand it is not. A burden to be carried for a while.
It is I, old wide-eyed soul, with the world and of its ways. Behind will come others to their fate with their own awareness and paths, sunlit and dark. It is the winter now and time which I soak, late again to sleep and rest.
Keith R Whittle