And here, the next good morning comes along,
and in between I've had a chance to feel
the opposite of joyfulness & song -
the blandness of no meaning, nothing's real! -
- or meaningful, or beckoning to joy,
the steady hope has seemed to just fade out.
No movement in the spirit stirs this boy.
If this should feel quite alien, why pout?
I've heard and known a lot of people who
have had a situation where they live
quite anxious, or depressed, lost meaning too.
So why should I not learn to fly, to give
not just when I feel overflowing, great;
but also when I may just choose to, for
a human true, should work against the hate,
indiff'rence, with integrity that's more
than having ev'rything work well of late.
Sometimes I know, I get to choose what's right,
not just because de-si-res won't abate.
Desire, like a beast in fight or flight
must first be named, in language claimed and 'seen',
then quite observed, and heard, & understood,
and ruled as gift from God to world should be
(not as the God, as on my own, as would
an animal, or A.I., sensing what's
around, with some desires built in too).
The news that Senior Partner calls the shots,
& is "at hand", is good and ever new!
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