Why slam our shutters shut against life's storms,
When that locks us in more firmly to who we think we are?
Yet could that turbulence be put to use,
Perhaps to turn the turbines of inner remembrance?
Then an indiscriminate gratitude for all that is, for whatever might be,
Might well become the key to our inner treasure.
Though even lackluster efforts on our part can't obstruct,
What's finally awakening's unstoppable eventuality.