By Michele T. Fry, ©
October 1992
I’ve made it to the other side,
from childhood fears to an adult stride.
There’s a calm that comes of knowing more
and I would never go back . . . . .
For children cry and stomp their feet . . .
and teens demand more freedom . . .
young hearts break at parting time . . .
and housewives hate their cleaning.
Politicians push and pull . . .
parents tear their hair out . . .
businessmen submit proposals . . .
angry workers riot.
And part of me is in the fray,
satisfying hungers.
But there’s another part of me
above it all — observing.
The yin. The yang. The too and fro.
The “everything’s always changing”.
The cycles going round are but
cosmetic rearranging.
Now wisdom’s oft’ portrayed a lofty
throne with sage reposing.
It’s really up there, off a ways.
I sit there now I’m older.
