Poems about Knowledge
We live in an age of information;
so very much has been learned;
but when it comes to dissemination;
not nearly enough is discerned.
Seed of information is plentiful;
tho much of it grows to weeds;
very little turns out bountiful;
supplying for all of our needs.
Many of its
…I am a child; offspring of the King;
ageless, and bearing little worth;
doing my best, Wisdom to bring;
for it was my purpose to birth.
I’ve traveled this road many times before;
attempting to love and to share;
now, I find myself traveling it once more;
to show
There is a place, up in the air;
we learned to store information;
it isn’t really a place or where;
for it’s the knowledge plantation.
Knowledge, has always been there;
tho we think we’re the first to bring.
But, far more is stored in that where;
for
Wisdom within creation;
leads to great beauty above;
while energy inclination;
leads to the beauty of Love.
Beauty is the result of energy;
beauty is wisdom’s son;
swirled together in synergy;
Beauty and Wisdom are One.
Outward beauty is only a tease;
real beauty is found inside;
beauty, outside;
What language does the soul speak;
is it English, French, or Spanish?
Just thinking causes my interest to peak.
If the soul speaks a word; does it vanish?
How do souls manage to communicate;
perhaps, in the way that they’re taught;
or else, instead, they will ruminate;
for the
Why is it that life goes by so fast;
it’s finished before it got started;
why doesn’t it seem like it lasts;
some of my friends have departed.
I’d dreamed I’d be famous and rich;
have mastery over domain;
again and again I see reality switch;
Today was a holiday; or so they say;
but it seems in no way different to me;
as empty hours are gliding away;
I’ve no longer the freedom to see.
What is it I’m doing; as landscapes go by;
searching for a purpose, remaining?
Devoid of sufficient tears,
We’ve blessings, we’ve yet to discover;
hidden very carefully; deeply within;
dimminished capacity; unable to uncover;
we don’t even know, where to begin.
Sometimes they’re hiding in plain sight;
we still don’t know that they’re there;
we, who seldom know wrong from right;
cannot
