I am past sixty, yet my life
has not been
Convincingly accounted for
I refuse to believe
My birth has occurred simply
Without a plan or devoid of purpose
When I was four I knew what I wanted in life
To reach the sky and touch the stars
My restless brain forever made plans
To place ladders one above the other
And climb until I reached
I tied in my feverish mind
Father's walking sticks one to another
To poke the sky
When I was fourteen I dreamt
Of becoming great
Absolutely no idea how
Read books like mad
Looking for a role-model
At seventeen Somerset Maughm happened
Razor's Edge was a revelation
Larry perfectly fitted the bill
Decided to become a Larry
Or else one marry
Neither happened
Umpteen books later produced a son
Who is now shaping himself to be a Larry
I have discovered
At last
The purpose of my life
being a mother....aspirations are the respiration of our soul....a lovely poem that takes us along life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life's purpose.....often eludes us somehow. The one's who realise it are truly blessed. Great write.10 + from me.