Four Squandered Decades

Four Squandered Decades
(An Abridged Explanation)

All of this is mine.
This crumbled edifice
And all the wreckage is mine alone.
You can walk along the trench that was dug
From restless pacing that carved the earth deeper and deeper
The nervous moment undertaken in the belief that
A path trod again and again would somehow lead somewhere different.
Into the trench leaks slowly the accumulated possessions that are abandoned
But seemed once invaluable, now giving way to rust.
Yet there is something of a comfort in this, so there disappeared
Forty years of walking with no direction, in the same direction.

All that comes after
Is not mine.
What makes one leave such a place; even the impulse to move
Seemingly cannot be born from within
Therefore no credit or merit is due.
Uncertain sincerity, shaky courage, implacable indulgence, and insufficient gratitude
Did not conspire to lengthen the stay how can that be?

Though I confess to returning now and again
The farther the distance between that trench and I
The more it seems there is less and less for me to do
And more and more being done for me I merely witness this
This elaborate construction of joy
This simple discovery
This grace, this grace, this torrential rain of grace.

– Baliyan Barrineau.

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