Oh!

Sensibilities are not always sensible,
At least this is said by those that find
One of yours with which they disagree
So,
Understandings are not always understandable
To those who can't grasp them
Or fear that if taken seriously, they would need to
Go.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
Or for the vision impaired, in their mind's eye
Which has a lid all its own that can be shut
To escape the risks inherent if one is to
Know.

Chronological aging brings nothing but
Getting older and guarantees little if anything else
Unless the aging self remains invested in wanting to
Grow.
The more we spend, the more we have
But the more we buy, the more we
Owe.
Oh, no!

The flowing of the growing comes with the knowing
That seeds are inanimate until they experience sowing.
The propensity to derive meaning
In the rhyming and rhythm of word weaving
Taps me gently on the back
As I am stealthfully leaving
With shallow breaths and heavy thoughts heaving
Preparing, at long last, to
Go.

Oh, do not ask "Why?"
Let us just bid each other
A gentle "Goodbye."