The world turns grey
when you mourn the time
which has not yet come.
The joy of the mountain climb
leaves in thinking of the descent.
The full moon’s brilliant splendor
dims with the coming waning crescent.
You cannot live
and anticipate death.
If you try both,
you are wasting your every breath.
I try and fail and
try and fail again
to be in the now.
Hopefully, I get there
before it is too late.
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