Being human is a blessing,
A perpetual work in progress.
A perpetual work in progress.
There is no finish line to cross,
No final test to pass.
No final test to pass.
There is no last note to sing,
No final word to write,
No finishing brushstroke to make.
No final word to write,
No finishing brushstroke to make.
Completeness is not asked of us,
Nor perfection demanded.
Nor perfection demanded.
It matters only that we live,
And grow, and love.
And grow, and love.
I can handle that.
No comments:
Post a Comment