When Morning Comes

morning

When mourning comes

The slow and painful rise of awareness

Bright and shocking to our confused eyes

When the tears fall for the Unlived Life

And the thoughts come of What Could Have Been

The Should Have Been’s

The If Only’s

Do we deny, then, or accept?

When mourning comes and the tidal waves of deep regret

Stick to your cheeks, smearing them with agony and loneliness

And your heart screams, why can’t it be different?

I should have known

And you look stupidly at your own ignorance

Mad at something that makes no sense to be mad at

Oh but so, so mad

And sad

The piercing bitterness rises

When mourning comes

And morning always comes

Do we deny, then, or accept?

Can we forgive ourselves for the Not Knowing

Can we start to see through new eyes

Polished, clearer from our suffering

And see — truly see — that there is no other way for any of us

To live this journey

Except exactly as it is