A poem, written by me…Moving on is scary: Growing older fuels reflection

It is nice to have a homebase,
even if only as a safekeeping,
for who you knew yourself to once be.

There is such a thing as Regret.

There is always a moment in time when you realize:
whom you failed,
when you took the wrong turn,
what you could have done differently,
why you reacted the way you did,
where you can improve - so as not to repeat in the future,
how to make things right again - or at least how to rebalance.

There is no bond comparable to that of great friendship.
There is no love that dies from simple mistakes.
There is beauty that survives all the negative,
the frustrating, the discerning and the chaotic.

Here! Here!
to Something more than what is
And nothing greater than what may be.