Is This All

Is this all? Life is a country, spread before us at birth, its Vistas stretching beyond the horizon, full of Mystery and anticipation. In the distance lie mountain ranges, Tall peaks of passion; this one the mother Of one’s children, that one the pinnacle Of a career, there the first marathon, Beyond wearing the green and gold. And between are valleys, and deep gorges of Despair, counterpoint, giving meaning to each Peak, for what is altitude but the opposite of Depression? All is not a rollercoaster of existence: plains Stretch in fertile sameness, each year growth And rich harvest; ears of wheat are as one’s Children that ripen and take on new life. In time, the country is explored, the borders Reached and new vistas beyond glimpsed. And one looks back at distant ranges and Sweeping plains, and wonders “Is this all?”. Out of the shimmering heat she appears, Riding on a bay brown horse. Almond eyes, Arabesque lips, and high cheekbones; Telling their story, generation on generation. And life takes on new meaning, resonances With the past command me, compel me in Response: in adolescence there was a she, Who chased me, but then I was not caught. “Love sought is good, Love given unsought Is better” so the saying goes; and she chased Me, until I caught her, and she became my all. Life is a country, spread before us.