There is chaos, there’s order.
On the edge, on the border.

The ragged edge of disaster.
Of this place I am the master,

And the slave all at once.
Threats arrive from all fronts.

It would be nice to be content!
On this a moment I lament . . .

What is happy, what is true?
What is this I’ve come unto?

Life where pain is a constant.
This is not what I wanted.

It’s what I got anyway.
Lugging burdens every day.

This is how I spend my time.
Yet it seems I’m doing fine.

The heaviness of yesterday,
Is lighter now, what can I say?

These trials have made me stronger.
I persevere for much longer.

Greater burdens are in store.
These new ones will weigh much more.

Shoulder them as I will.
Suffering will be distilled.

Think again about that joy,
As this pain keeps me employed.

What is happy what is true?
What is this I’ve come unto?

Not my body – it’s ever breaking.
Not my feelings – always forsaken.

It’s a mind and how it deals,
And as it deals what that reveals.

About a self, about this world,
About the hurt to be impearled.

Arbiter of pain and bliss?
Contemplate the truth of this.
© 2019 TheRememberings Ltd.