In the game are many pretty baubles
They look to be the prizes we can win
The things to strive for, yearn for, long for
Tantalizing traps to keep us in
The baubles glint just out of reach —
We chase them
We fling desire at what we may attain
Success, romance, acclaim —
Then happenings erase them
And leave us sad and empty once again
Their light, however, has a different source
(No light is generated in the game)
The tempting glow each thing emits
Hides brilliance that the game could never claim
Beyond the game, Love’s truth shines ever bright
Always enough to quench our thirst for light.
©Wendy Mulhern
January 4, 2011
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