
The task of living is to feel alive
Not caged by walls of awe or steely fence
We want to love,be taken by surprise.
Our wounded, mangled self we can’t deride,
Recalling fights and struggles lived through once.
The point of living is to feel alive.
We dither to and fro in puzzled ways
We feel the anguish, still and quite intent.
We want to love,be taken by surprise.
The self’s spontaneous, not a thing contrived;
Formed with love and hate, contained, intense.
The rage of living is to be alive.
When washed away by feelings glad,immense
That cross our borders with our glad consent.
The hope,the need of living thus is life
We want to give and take and live surprised