Life brings with it unpardonable woe,
from a demonic foe.
It is that bite in the neck
just when under the illusion
that all is well
with our brief stint on Earth so full of confusion.
We mount our noble steed as a knight at birth,
to joust with life in the lists
and test our worth.
Each joust a dark trial where we possess
every disadvantage when cosmic lance meets shield,
only to find that we must yield
to a predestined fate
we are compelled to meet on each battlefield.
It’s the bomb that rends a peaceful night,
ripping bodies to shreds
claiming the innocent,
and multiplying the dead.
It’s the Bushmaster attached
to a man hunting children in school,
all the more to amaze the public
he would employ such a tool.
It’s the cancer fight we make with all of our might,
the loss of a job, our dignity and self-worth,
the unspeakable thing that possesses us lying in bed full of fright.
It’s the loss of a child or spouse or our health,
a subtle change in the chemical balance in our brain
stealing our happiest days from inside the self,
an empty pain, marking a hole in our mortal soul.
Yet we joust with life because it is our lot
to spend our days facing what we would not
living life defiant, to the full, our own Sir Lancelot,
looking to something greater than ourselves with trust
in our ability to affirm love not fear
in communion with our Creator,
the good shepherd always near.