I look in mirror – reflected: mere sinner;
sixty years on, still blundering beginner,
big motor mouth with shrivel-small heart
- ever thankful for God’s fresh start.
I’m speeding towards heaven or hell
– final destination, only God can tell;
fallible foot stuck on accelerator pedal,
finish line sought, not halo or medal.
crazy things done, stupid words said:
my mind reflects, my face turns red;
multi crises dominate post-mid-life,
married thirty years: two boys, one wife.
I’m neither very rich, nor pitifully poor,
some people left me, some shown the door,
some few still remain faithful friends:
this rhyming sinner attempts amends.
how many years left to make my mark?
will I go gently into death and dark?
will I tackle my selfish sin head on?
will I be celebrated when I’m gone?
photo: Dora Kazmierak www.instagram.com/dorakazmierak/