How and When, Will It All End

I once wrote a poem about that time I looked into my dog’s eyes and asked questions and searched answers of existence. Another time, another poem my attention captured by a mountain peak as I found in the depths of tranquility a revelation in my being. One summer morning a poem about flowers in a garden and how the morning dew was upon their petals still. Wrote about the sights, and the sounds, and the smells and the delights flowers provide for the living. Perhaps today a poem about that time I got lost and was crying at a picnic and how that woman found me brought me back to my parents who eased the unrest that I had experienced deep within my soul. But mind always compels me to write another while consumed by the sight of wrinkles on my face and my thinning gray hair pulled into a mind created vortex of fear and uncertainty which causes me to wonder how and when it will one day all end.