Two Men

 

Two men on a beach

with the sky, sand and water.

Two men on a beach,

one the son, one the father.

Each his own path,

yet together they walk.

Much is being said,

no need to talk.

Two men on a beach,

a history they share:

moments of laughter,

some hardship, much care.

The future before them

may split different ways.

But one thing is certain,

for all of their days:

Whatever the joy felt

 or challenge they weather,

in spirit they'll always

 remain close together.

Two men on a beach

with the sky, sand and water.

Two men on a beach,

one the son, one the father.

-- 

for Tim and Ali by Erika & Eve

A painful teacher

I don't like pain, I'd rather avoid it.

I don't like to suffer, it makes me feel angry.

How dare I be exposed for being weak and mortal!

When I feel pain, I get upset.

When I get sick, I feel frustrated.

I fight it.  

This isn't me, I tell myself.

I am a happy, confident, strong and healthy woman 

who has come this far, learned so much, grown in wisdom and maturity.

And I love to take risks, to take on a good challenge. 

But...

I don't like pain,  I 'd rather avoid it.

How can I call myself wise and mature if I don't like pain?

How can I call myself a risk-taker if I don't accept pain

and see it as something that's making me stronger?

Is it making me stronger?

What will happen if I give in to this painful teacher,

Accept my defeat and admit that I am merely mortal?

Is there another school of life to learn how to be strong and wise?

Or am I destined to experience pain again and again,  

simply battling on, fighting what I know to be a losing fight?

And only perhaps one day discovering the secret?

Questions for which I'm not sure I want to hear the answers.

In the meantime, 

this is me.

I don't like pain, I'd rather avoid it.

Time...my friend

 

One-hundred-and-twenty

one day I'll become;

one-hundred-and-twenty,

that's too old, for some.

But time, though often on my heel

will shed perspective on what's real.

And time, my friend, through history's lens

much pain and sorrow will heal and cleanse. 

So, even though I've often thought

and with my conscience wrestled and fought:

'There's never enough of time to spend

and why must all the good things end?'

 

With time, I might just realise

that time itself is not the prize.

A hefty price will always be measured;

it's time that reminds us why this life is treasured.  

One-hundred-and-twenty

one day I'll become;

one-hundred-and-twenty,

that's too old, for some.

 

But, time, indeed, you are my friend,

reminding me of what I spend:

Each moment, though it's swiftly gone,

a wisdom, a memory, a treasure won.