Is this what the end feels like

I quiver. Hope brakes do not hold.
Joy extreme. Possibility plays, taunts
edges out peace. Invokes must now.

Turn to and shove. Push. Prod
Life into actuality. Sweat trickles
muscles strain. Knot this life.

Not-quite contentment lies
in the periphery. More like ease.
Still not peace. Less hope than fatigue.
Or cessation perhaps
removes burdens
lessens anxiety. Whatever.
Stillness is ok by me. Now.

4 thoughts on “Progress

    • Love that. I somehow think it came as chapters on the episodes of life. I was reflecting how how it felt when I was 35 and thought of how fast, how much, how I wanted to MAKE. IT. HAPPEN. NOW. Then the 40s when I was just so engrossed in the hard, hard work of it all. And now. Less strain, and some peace which seems to be arriving in waves.

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