…Is to know your limitation:
To strive, stretch and struggle
and still fail to move the needle;
To know the train stops at this station.
…Is when Mr Hope and Ms Dream
look into each other’s eyes
and, with sad whispers, say ‘bye bye
sweet dream; please don’t scream’.
…Is when your plot to defeat mortality,
– via transmission of perpetual consciousness;
– via the honey-tinged arrow of timelessness,
is headed for failure with deafening certainty.
…Is the frowning cloud which, having descended,
refuses to clear, but instead serves a teary storm;
an inner storm that rages on and on, teasing doom;
and making sure the unsmiling gods are fully offended.
…Is when Choice – at a fork in the road – meets Confusion.
Confusion looks at Choice with a blank cow’s eye –
and asks: how did I get here and why?
Choice sighs, shrugs and says: that is your question.
…Is when miles of mental meekness,
having run to the edge of the Bad-Options Cliff,
looks down and yonder at the unforgiving reef
and decides that it is better to accept weakness.
