Confluence of Numbers
They’re just dates, ages, times and amounts.
Rolling by, leaving marks in history,
That no one a thousand years from now will see.
But here in the moment they feel like everything.
They mark the paths of their lives.
By merest chance a birthday crosses a day
With someone’s death in it;
Losses falling on anniversaries of life;
Days of celebration marked with pain.
It can’t be helped I’m sure.
God knows the way we need to go.
Every day’s somebody’s celebration.
Every day is someone’s sorrow.
Only time will smooth it over,
Eternal life’s the only thing that can
Leave behind the grief and keep the holidays.
© 2016 by Tom King
* Picture courtesy of http://arlingtoncemetery.net/section60-hbo-film-001.htm
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