Between my shadow and my soul


I am acutely aware of the creeping in of agedness,
In my exasperation at their excitement based on ignorance,
In how I can predict the blooming of flowers, from memory,
In my marvelling respect for those who filled in the clouds,
In my letting go to give their ideas space,
And in my deep sense of responsibility,
To be remembered by Right, and to leave them with Good

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