When Eye can no longer write and read
the things I loved to read and see,
I can bewail my age, and rage –
Or simply accept the next new page.
I cannot know the final hour
When Death will take the fading flower.
I cannot know the witching time
Death will stop my simple rhyme.
But I can choose to live and say
I’m glad I’m alive each darkening day.
I will not wail and wildly rage,
I’m ready to read Death’s bright new page.
Susan Barrett, August 20th 2022
Great lines Sue, we must all face our mortality head on and thus resolves to make the most of each day. Hope you are keeping well.
Good to know you’re there! xS