HALF-POINT MELTDOWN

Droning routines, annoyed with people, worn at the edges, 

I recall time as unbearable in need of major change.

Should the change be disconnection from previous pledges?

A most plausible option tho admittedly strange,

I tried to ask but no one listened at all. 

Unpredictably common this shared human occasion, 

Half way through our fleeting lives, mortality comes knocking.  

To be brave and hang in there demands robust persuasion, 

Advice to hold tightly is morality talking,

Yet sometimes you don’t care to listen at all. 

I understand, and I know that about which I’m speaking. 

I myself suffered discontentment and disillusion,

Emotional tears flowed as my sad spirit was shrieking  

My heart and mind were crippled by tortured confusion. 

At that blue time I couldn’t listen at all.

The worst advice I received was from someone with money. 

“Get a grip” was his obtuse counsel and his bottom line. 

Healed and humorous now, at the time it wasn’t funny, 

“Take your time,” from someone wiser, “and you will be fine,”  

From somebody whose kind heart listened to all. 

More than a quarter century ago I found my way through

Then aware of human despair where stop or change occurs

Employed kindness to others from distress by which I grew, 
Sharing patience, love, and peace - what everyone prefers.

So they were thrilled that I had listened at all.

© Ron Unruh, 2019