Being (2)

Where once I used to favour doing,
I now put being in its place;
Regardless if there’s trouble brewing,
I meet it with the utmost grace.

I’m more than happy just to linger
Beneath the boughs of spreading trees
And watch while others point the finger
And bring each other to their knees.

To think I might have never altered
My attitude to life at all
Had my ambition never faltered
And I incurred a mighty fall.

But, while I lay there on the floor,
I looked and saw a golden door.

Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash

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