There comes a time
When we allow our collectiveness to matter.
When our place with others seems more important.
When what we see as our generation
Shapes us and the identity we project.
When we make being a Boomer, or
Remembering the Beatles’ Abbey Road album
As more important than they ever could be.
There comes a time when we realize
That so much of what we are
Makes little difference
In the grand scheme of things, and
That so much of what made our world
Was nothing more than a long series of random events
That we just happened to be a part of.
Eventually we see; at least most of us
The improvisational nature of life, and
So improvise we do, in ways we like best,
Until the time comes
When we must ultimately surrender
All scripts and all we think we know,
And give ourselves over
To that which cannot be changed, and
Most likely not even remembered
Until the next time
Some random event
Makes it all seem familiar.
And so, there comes a time
When we finally accept that
Life rolls through us
Like an unscheduled freight train
That only stops
When it stops.
Poetic Alchemist 
Z, thanks so much. Good having you back. Hope you have been doing well. Take care.
“Like an unscheduled freight train
That only stops
When it stops.”
Oh so very true! Loved it….Z
Thanks Floots. It is uplifting in the sense that it takes the burden off our backs of trying so damn hard. It’s about letting go and letting God like many of my other poems.
freight train
(at least you didn’t mention “going so fast” – and that’s what’s beginning to worry me) 🙂
thoughtful – and strangely uplifting – piece don
thank you
Thanks Dan, Trinity and Quasar.
Dan, thanks for the promotion, but…
And some times the train is derailed
the train leaves the tracks!
You are right there … keep rolling Don. When I read the car sales bit … I thought no … it cant be … yep! you nearly had me.
I love this clean Look … I have been wondering wether to change to a brighter page.
Good luck here!
hugs for you
I like it!
Thanks!
Oh Poet Laureate
Of Ohio
And beyond