COMING TO TERMS

 

Coming to Terms

We come to terms with the terms we’ve sworn,

The contracts signed, the oaths we’ve borne—

Each promise made, a thread we weave,

Into the fabric of what we believe.

They call us back, like a homing dove,

To the duties we’ve chosen, the lives we love.

Yet in this dance of give and take,

We find that to have is not always to make

A simple claim, a possession clear,

For often, to hold is to hold dear.  

The weight of promises, like chains of gold,

Bind us to paths both brave and bold.

They shape our days, our nights, our dreams,

And in their light, nothing’s as it seems.

For freedom’s call, a siren’s song,

Tempts us to stray, to not belong.

But duty’s voice, though stern and low,

Reminds us of the seeds we sow—

The choices made, the lines we’ve crossed,

The gains we cherish, the loves we’ve lost.  

In quiet moments, when we reflect

On what we’ve gained, what we’ve wrecked,

We see that to have is not just to own,

But to nurture, to cherish, to make known

The depth of our commitments, the strength of our word,

In a world where too often, promises are blurred.

For every oath is a mirror’s face,

Reflecting back the self we trace—

The one who stands, the one who falls,

The one who answers when duty calls.  

So we come to terms with the terms we’ve made,

And in their embrace, we are not afraid.

For though the path is steep and long,

It’s in our promises we grow strong.

And though to have may not be to keep,

It’s in the trying that we find sleep—

A peace that comes from knowing well

That in our oaths, our truths we tell.