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Missing

by Richard Vince

Time and again, I find myself
Wondering what others are hearing
But I am not; what it is
That delights their ears but
Jars in mine.

It is as though I lack enough
Beauty in sound to fill my heart,
And yet I know there is more
Than I can possibly fit
Into a lifetime of listening.

Why, then, can I not accept this?
Is my fear of missing out so
Great that I am willing to
Sacrifice joy for futile attempts
To understand what I never will?

Perhaps it is merely my continuing
Reluctance to let myself enjoy
Anything: the nagging worry that
There could be something better,
Or that the joy cannot last.

But now I have accepted
Simplicity, this is next:
Ceasing to look for good things
When I already have
More than enough.

10/24/2019

Posted on 12/10/2019
Copyright © 2020 Richard Vince

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