2024-08-20

The P i l g r i m ROAD-WORK (after him)..

 



A lovely thing’s to be a child agāīn, 

some road-work: singing, learning, speaking loud

old poetry and rhythmic stuff sustains

a spirit and a sense of humour proud.


And if it’s tuned to purposes that last,

and they’re more lively inside this old skin,

I'm in no hurry now to get there fast,

I need good seed, gone deep, & growing in


this garden plot which moves around -  that’s me;

of soil, with weeds pulled out & good compost

mixed in (& not washed off). So now I  see 

a benefit in grieving for what’s lost.


That’s if it’s not all trumped up, just for show,

and if it’s not allowed to be the boss,

but has a place that’s shared with one who’ll know

the grief of good hopes, plans, that have been crossed 


out, and discarded, left for dead, all gone!

Yet knows the secret of what “never fails”

for it creates all worlds, it's light has shone

before the sun whose energy avails


for living, moving things upon this earth.

This “torch”, we humans were to carry on

to all creation, so as to give birth

to further points of light, though not as strong.


Both spinning, shining, energized by more 

than anything that’s else within our world.

A little child, amazed, can stand in awe

then throw itself to parent's arms, be hurled.


And that’s what I would do, as child again,

don’t try to run off “on my own” at all,

but often lift my heart & mind as friend,

as left & right brain hemispheres recall


each other, with perspectives not the same,

but necessary for a teamed up way

of making sense, and living out this “game”

of life on earth, and learning what to say


and how to act, each is a serving king

or queen, and they will rule as parents do,

out of committed love in ev’rything,

creative, and hard work they won't eschew!






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