I find myself struggling to find purpose;
for what my life is to be about;
but, reasons seem reluctant to surface;
and I find I’m turned inside out.
Some days, I feel that I’m close to knowing;
that the answer, appears ready to surface;
and yet, then, while I think that I’m growing,
my life transforms to a circus.
I feel the constance of life’s ebb and flow;
experiencing its terrible ups and downs;
whenever I sense myself starting to grow;
I feel that I’m in a world full of clowns.
People have been systematically divided;
riddled with taxes and arbitrary rules;
civil unrest has been intentionally incited;
some may die; rather than live like fools.
Permanence has faded like the morning fog;
the only thing constant, is change.
I feel like I’m floating on a rolling log;
the world around me, seems strange.
Is purpose a destiny designed just for me;
one that will always remain the same;
or, am I to forge my own destiny;
where my failures bear my own name?
Creation’s flowers, blossom for a purpose;
for, everything happens for a reason;
the Master’s will is hidden, neath the surface;
so that Love will bloom in season.