Recall Now The Roses There will be a time to cry.
There will be a time to remember that you’re the only one
Who went home alone.
There will be a time to go twelve rounds with yourself
And lose on points.
There will be a time to second-guess every glance,
Every laugh, every conversation and every half-heard whisper.
There will be a time to call yourself a cunt.
But in this place
Of vast, terrifying beauty that seems
To us more-or-less intelligent primates
The last word in permanence but
Has only been for a few blinks
Of the great geologic eye;
And under these stars
Shining their impossibly ancient light,
Light that was born before the first
Rocks of Earth collided and now
Rests orphaned in your tear-damp eyes;
And with these people
Who, despite their happy, normal, love-filled lives
Can still find the time
To remind you that their world at least
Would be the poorer for your absence;
In this place,
Under these stars,
With these people;
This is a time to hold on tight to
“I am happy. And that’s okay.”