"That Which Will End"

We spend so much time

Running from life…

Finding ways to escape it;

When all we really should be doing

Is living it.

Embracing it.

How can one become aware

Of this agonizing reality,

And yet be unable

To evade it?

How can one find a way

To want to be alive…

I never see the road ahead,

Nor any of us;

And yet we run

With reckless adandon

Into the unknown:

Inevitable loss.

Why?

Why does love become

The pursuit of all we are?

Why does passion consume

And change us so?

So I drown myself

In things which distract

And numb the ache of life.

And I tell myself

It is possible

To live without love,

And be truly alive.

And I inhale deeply

A brave sort of breath,

And I know that I’ll be

Just fine.

Alone.

Alive.

Then the phone rings,

And all at once

All of my courage

Is flushed from my heart,

And replaced by a love

Which devours.

And all of my dreams,

And all my desire

And hope become

Only love.

And life becomes,

Once again,

The painful pursuit

Of that which will

End.