O, the involuntariness of life.
I did not ask for any of this.
I was not sinned from my mother’s womb to strife
between such small moments of bliss.
I cannot canter, all horsely and proud,
made to garden the fruits of my labour.
My soul was born to yearn loud,
not sink to another’s cold favour.
God willing, by the end of my days
I will leave achievements like letters –
small mercies for the suffering of babes
to learn how to generation better.
Peace comes at this fair price –
not without effort, or calling;
but through silent lessons, taught to them twice –
elders way showing before falling.
And so, to these children of time:
mistakes beget paths, straight and narrow.
I was birthed as Creator of mine
to lead such a flight like a sparrow.
© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 10 July, 2017