When I climbed up to the top of the fence,
I sat there watching the people on the other side.
They had such a contented look on their faces.
Complacent almost... as if life was supposed to be that way.

As I climbed back down,
I noticed that the people on my side of the fence
wore a different look.
One that I understand, a look I have acquired myself.
On my side of the fence I feel at home.

It's not perfect here, the grass is sparse and there are rocks
that pop up out of nowhere.
But.... we all understand each other, on my side of the fence.
We didn't choose to be on this side, but we know
that even thought life here is hard. . .
we will survive.

We know that sometimes we may peek over the fence
and wish we were on the that greener plusher side.
But then, we feel a small hand tugging at our heels. . and we return.
When we hear the laughter from the other side of the fence
it sounds so beautiful.
Then we remember that joy and sorrow walk hand in hand.
We cannot truly appreciate one without the other.

Sometimes when it's dark and I feel the pain of living on this side of
the fence.
I stop and realize that in the dark there is no difference.
We all look to the light . . . no matter which side we are on.
Yes the grass may be greener on the other side
but there are joys on my side of the fence.
and I want to be able to enjoy them. . .
without having to stop to mow the lawn.

~ copyright Sally Meyer