The Verge of Tomorrow

As I stand looking out
On the verge of tomorrow,
I'm filled with trepidation 
And with melancholy
For what I used to be.

Perhaps it is the coinciding 
Of this new era 
With my thirtieth year
That makes me fear what's to come
While yearning for
The carefree days now spent.

This can't be the end 
As the doomsayers boast.
I've got so much yet to learn
About who I am and what I have
To offer to this world.

Yet those I've loved and grieved,
Perhaps this is my chance 
To hear their tranquil whispers,
"It's alright."
"We love you no matter."
Instead of conflicting thoughts
Ravaging my mind.

To stare in awestruck wonder 
At the beauty of simplicity
And know once more
That being myself
Is enough.

I can't stop the ticking bomb
That rushes life 
And quenches innocence.
Yet no matter how 
This wordly celebration ends,
Who I am right now
Might be all that I'm
Supposed to be.

Kathy Kehrli's Questions:

I struggled with the end of this poem.  Do you think it sums up what I'm trying to say?  Is it clear that the possibility of the end is something that I fear, yet also look forward to?

This is the first poem that I'm sharing and I would appreciate any comments or suggestions.  Thanks for reading!!