Most of us would agree that we are often our own worst enemy. I think as we age we do less getting in our own way, less struggling against the unchangeable. For me, it is the struggle that wears me down, the wishing away of things that are here to stay -- for a while at least. This poem is about a peaceful acceptance of what IS. Not a giving up...more of a letting go. It may only last an hour or a day, but for that brief moment, the shoulders relax, the hands open and the breath comes deeply.
but one day you just know...
that the struggle must end,
that the time for sadness is past
and the grieving stranger, no longer needed,
has gone for good;
that the sweet music you hear
is the rhythm of your hopeful heart
laden with gifts of nourishment,
a lavish feast for your hunger,
a warm cup for your deepest thirst
that you will not turn from, but embrace;
that you have come at last, searching
for yourself, clothed in grace,
to offer only love.
from Dance on a Dirt Road