Oh dear-rest start to all beginnings that
have purpose or some meaning in this world…
the eve’ning before morning marker flat-
out, nearly 7 times* - as ALL is hurled
into existence, nurtured in its “rest”
before the work that starts most mornings here
unless we do believe this bigger zest
that means new human life might still appear
when people sleep together, the next morn-
-ing work might start (a nine months process then)
of baby resting in its Mummy’s torn
up world, her body is her babe’s too when
it is - and only love will make that call.
Self-centred-ness can’t but see other wise.
As humans with no cones where colour falls
on ret’nas: can’t descry; need not despise
the concept of a colour. ’Specially
so, if they ever had a cone in eye
or trusted - other folk’s analogies
or word, to recount well the things they spy
and how some things can seem to us “..because!”.
It isn’t that no stiving’s necess’ry,
but rather that it’s not the driving force
and when we accept gifts and graciously
give thanks and let the rest be ours as well
as whose we are ourselves - not our own “things”;
but part of fam’ly heritage, we sell
these selves short if we don’t learn songs to sing.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for adding to the conversation...