this is how it is
how strange to think
I’ve reached an age
of dying—
I would like it
to be different,
but this is how it is
friends, family
ill or failing,
taken, one by one—
since I don’t know
and can’t imagine
what is right or best
I hold for highest good
I wonder when
my time will come?
no chance to choose
I’d like to have a vast
and orchestrated plan
but as I age,
the more I see
there is no plan at all
each enigmatic moment
an opulent banquet—
I put my thoughts away
choose willingness
and dine on this—
unknown’s lavish spread
2023 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—not final versions.
the heart of the matter 
Coming thru the turn style
into the game
Ticket in
don’t know how I got it
Ticket out comes with it
Written in invisible ink
Beautiful event
Ever changing
Some days rather want
The Ticket out
At least to know
When it will end
Meanwhile
Glorious amazing beauty
More than I can grasp
Hope the Ticket out
Reads not for a while
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So fun, thank you! Yeah, I’m also hoping my ticket out takes a while….
Which Linda are you? I know a couple.
With love,
Amrita
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PS: particularly loved these lines! They made me chuckle.
Ticket in
don’t know how I got it
Ticket out comes with it
Written in invisible ink
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Oh yes! I am loving this poem. Thank you for today¹s delicious offering. XO Sylvia
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Thank you! It kind of fell out. I love when that happens.
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