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We search for endless years that niche to find,
From unrelenting meddling thoughts apart,
That ambience to inner growth resigned,
And discontent forever can depart.
Mere mortals grow accustomed to their fate,
Seduced by concrete transients for their roots;
Inclined the wiser counsel to berate,
Deferring to more palatable fruits;
Yet, deep within each selfhood there resides,
Unquenchable desire to attain
Much more, surpassing earthenware, besides,
The stuff of which endures beyond all stain,
May God his gracious gift to all decree,
That peace of ‘letting go’ and ‘letting be’!
©Meanderings 2017
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Autumn Ambles 