The Season Of My Ending Poem by Ole Makau Samuel

Here we will sit,
Together once more.
At the end of a battle,
Whose tally,
We score.
Then discard,
Knowing better,
Another year comes.

We gather here slowly,
Or quickly,
By grace.
Remembering only,
Those things,
We could face.
Letting the lesser,
Things go.

By wit,
Or by guile,
We reckon,
Ourselves,
To the meeting,
The greeting,
Our living here,
Tells.

Though our legs,
Are less steady,
Our hearts,
Seem to grow,
Much more,
Into something,
We thankfully,
Know.

Another year looming,
The celebrant's sum.
Which of the byways,
We turn toward,
Or from.
I, in my lasting,
Endurance will run,
To those seasons,
I've challenged,
To come.