No one expects

To breeze through life’s maze

And quickly seize

A scavenged treasure.

Or rarely do people

Face tasks insurmountable,

Then end their days

in passive leisure.

Yet all our goals, our gazes,

Target known success

Expecting that worth equates

To attained pleasure.

What is life’s great glory work?

What’s sufficient praise?

What is our true worth?

I’m thinking, too much, we measure.

By JB Morris- Poems, Prose, and Possibilities- mostly about life, sometimes about God, with brief interludes concerning shoe addiction.

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Kind Donations Appreciated. For publishing requests, contact juliebmorris@obscurewritings.com.

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