Plea to My Son: Wisdom Living

So many times in life I thought I knew what was best
And I wore the vest of pride in stride with arrogance,
And I tried with all of my might to make it all so right
Only to fall into the dark night of the soul with a hole
In my heart and my mind bound against sound reason,
Collapsing into an awful season of tumultuous unrest,
And all the while there were blessings untold for me
That I could just barely see in the distance but would
Not touch in my insistence to forge ahead with plans
Of my own that were sown in isolation and darkness;
And, oh, how I wish now that I could go back and bow
To sense and sensibility, to rewrite my past in lasting
Joy and peace with a new lease on life . . . but no, son,
This I cannot do and so I sue myself in the court of life
So rife with pain and such little gain from such insane
Decisions and I hold my history in derision, my child;
So I say to you, do not walk the same path I’ve walked,
But be sober-minded and clear-headed and do pray
Before you say what you think you want and then leap
Without looking! Read the book of your own father
To learn and burn not with zeal but hear without fear
Wise counsel offered and open your eyes to see gifts
Already bestowed in your life and do not thrown away
What has been so freely given to enliven your fantasy!
Sense and sensibility under the cover of prayer, my son;
Take the higher and better road; yes, the better road!

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Such Beauty in the Dangerous Beautiful

Look up at the moon and soon you will be enthralled by her beauty,
But then imagine dying as you’re lying on her bed of cold rock . . .
Gaze upon the awesome magnificence of the lion at a safe distance,
But then consider being mauled in your insistence to draw near . . .
Mountains are majestic but also so often dangerously undomestic;
Ah! What is beautiful can be so bountiful and so very inspirational,
But dangerous to the venturous, killing those willing to draw near
To what they hold dear in that same beauty that demands no duty
To die for what they can eye safely from afar, like a star in the sky;
Some beauty is mostly ghostly and simply cannot be held closely
But only admired in an almost lonely manner like what is holy . . .
Be wise in what your eyes see and the sudden rise in your heart
To claim some prize that was never meant to be possessed by you;
Admiration and appreciation does not demand your possession;
Be discerning and ever learning to calm the burning in your heart


Note: Originally penned on December 1, 2016, now being republished due to some renewed interest as well as for the enjoyment of new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all!

Oh Would-Be Philosopher…

Would life be more beautiful without Beauty,
Or beauty alive without Life, despite pain?
Is there gain in the cold, unfeeling rain
While no wings enfold, nor droplets glimmer
With unseen spirits, what makes them shimmer?

Does it satisfy the soul with gashing hole
To rage against prophet, priest and sage?
Are we to gauge our life on earthen stage
By no more than pretense of what we sense,
Cream of foolish dream dreamed in gilded cage?

Ah, no! Human gene did not arise from machine;
Tossed unseen ‘neath blackened skies, unclean,
Filthy beginning with no meaning, careening
Toward senseless death, no heavenly breath;
Ah, no! Tis more to be than what we see…

Why rant and rave, then, from Plato’s cave,
Thinker so mighty and great, with venomous hate?
Leave in peace those who believe and cease
Your debate, while you inebriate your mind
And carve your fate, without divine of any kind.

Some may wail and cry for some goodly supply
Of goddesses and demi-gods; religiously try
Ere to appease and please, but some of us
Fly already where angels sigh and sing whereby
We fill our souls and laugh content so high.

Ah, philosopher so wise, why do you prize
Diabolic lies, when would be better Socrates
To follow, to appease, than anger so rotten,
Of hell begotten, with all love forgotten;
Are you really content with materialistic bent?

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Note: Originally published in August 2015 as a bit of a diatribe against atheistic materialism, now republished due to some renewed interest as well as for the consideration and reading pleasure of new blog followers. Blessings to one and all!

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And Every Seed That Grows

Every seed needs to grow through pain to gain its promise,
And t’would be insane otherwise to think it should shrink
From such potentiality in reality of its life now just begun,
When the sun beckons the seed to break free, feed ‘n grow
In the show of maturation by the saturation of an alive life
Within a hive of nature in which it should strive to become
What it was meant to be for all to see one magnificent tree,
And is this not the way with life so rife with pain that gain
Comes not with comfort but that we suffer without buffer?
Ah! Should we pout that our sprout comes about with pain?
But there is pleasure, too, in a measure of genuine growth!
Our reaction is satisfaction in but a fraction of maturation!
Yes . . .
Every seed needs to grow through pain to gain its promise:
Life

If Hatred Is All That Unifies You

If hatred is all that unifies you, then you will always have to hate to be unified;
Is this the kind of unity you desire? Unity completely devoid of love and peace?
And what happens when the object of your hatred changes or simply vanishes?
If hatred is all that’s unified you, you’ll have to find something else to hate,
Or what is worse, someone else to hate with no room left for true compassion,
No room for understanding, for bridge-building, for reasonable compromise . . .
Is this kind of unity an healthy unity? Unity centered upon feelings of hostility?

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years upon years,
And now my life is filled with too many decades of time with too few left to me
To live in hatred and animosity, fear, paranoia, enmity, rancor and bitterness;
And this man is too old and tired to spend his precious time with those who do!
Even my ears grow weary of hearing the poison spewing out from such people!
Light, life ‘n love stand above all and are more than enough to take all my time,
So too there is truth ~ yes ~ but my choice is to stand upon truth in true peace.

The Long Road Ahead

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

Some people travel lightly while others carry heavy loads;
Some folks make the trek alone while others with a hoard;
And some cry in the dirt without trying to make their way,
While others smile at the day and stay straight the course

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

You may meet and greet people walking slowly and lowly;
You may meet and greet people sweet with lots of treats;
And you just might run into some rash and brash types, too,
But there are also those who are always steadfast and true

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

Face this long road stretched ahead
Be careful where you make your bed
Remember only what good was said
Be humble but surely keep your head

Some folk will stop along the way in the middle of the day,
While others forge on with a song and a pep in their step;
Some people will recognize that it’s no good to agonize,
While others fraternize with complainers and naysayers

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend

So, how will you spend the journey with so many trends,
On this long ‘n winding road ahead that has no dead end?

There is a long road ahead of you with no dead end,
And you’re walking it with not a lot of time to spend