Reblogged with kind permission.
Sometimes when living large we meet a squall
Or turbulence perturbs our arrowed aim,
Quite commonly some barrier forestalls
Or vague hint that our path might end in pain.
At other times approaching zenith nigh
The altitude has queer effect on sight,
We squint to see if we have gone awry
And then we find a stop-sign glaring bright.
Instead of hedonistic fame and power
A better gauge to measure life’s success,
Would calculate time used to smell a flower
And calibrate health, love and happiness.
A barrier can serve us to remind
We’ve left the purpose of our course behind.