I was tired of having no place to go;
being all alone, carries its cost;
it was wintertime; and I loved snow;
just sitting at home; I was lost.
I was shopping alone; nothing to buy;
trying to find, something to fit;
but, there was nothing my size, to try;
Man was fashioned from the dust;
and, as dust, I was destined to stay;
it’s required, that, in God I’ll trust;
for, I only have feet made of clay.
Throughout life, I began to mature;
but failures oft stood in my path;
for the things of life that
I know so little; yet I know so much;
for wisdom, I need not confide;
my own choices, seem out of touch;
for, my wisdom is hidden, inside.
The Wisdom, within, is inconceivable;
no answers are beyond its reach;
the knowledge, contained; unbelievable;
maintaining the power to teach.
Our souls
…Everything, in life, comes with a cost;
for nothing in life is free;
something’s gained; something’s lost;
that’s how things happen to be.
I’ve heard it said, the best things are free;
obviously refering to love and affection;
and though it seems that’s true; you
Nothing in the universe is static;
all, perpetually changing;
reality, itself, is consistently erratic
all of being, rearranging;
Eternal stability comes thru motion;
a thought, needs a place to go;
similar to the waves from an ocean;
thoughts require, an ebb and flow.
We think of time, as standing still;
…Cymbals clash, signaling the birth;
as the symphony, called life, begins;
the orchestra hovered, above the earth;
and the heavenly music descends.
The thoughts of life were sounded above;
its fragrant scents, descended below;
Eden was the garden of power and love;
earth; where man was destined to go.
The
…Eternity is a circular energy path;
for only a circle has no ending;
all you need do, is follow the math;
it keeps coming back to beginning.
Imagine it all, an invisible cloud;
comprised of all information.
All thoughts, are, within it, allowed;
from all eternity’s foundation.
The universe
…We think we face an exterior entity;
an outside world by reality defined;
one specifically crafted by divinity;
a work of the Master’s creative mind.
Have we forgotten what we were told;
that we’re made in the Master’s image;
do memories grow dim as we grow old;
