A very private loss


It is a loss, even though it is not a bereavement.
It is not sadness inflicted by events,
breaking asunder and stealing happiness.
It is a loss of hopes cherished
at the threshold of adulthood,
but now unfulfilled;
a growing into the reality of
what it had spiralled to become;
not our best
and our flourishing,
but smallness and depletion.

How did we get there, 
from starting at such a seeming good place?
A thousand tiny steps, and more, 
Cast to sea, floating
ever further apart.

Reconciling in oneself what was good,
with what was not -
is hard to do,
a journey of its own,
that is long and lonely.

and yet,
it has been the journey into life -
yours I hope,
and mine I know.



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