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Poem

It was once a matter of clairvoyance
a search beneath the skin
rewarded with the tranquility of knowledge
beyond sense
Grievances revered as models of understanding
and true compassion
But ebb and flow are not without consequence
and the appearance called time an undisciplined
foe
Man then left as beast to devices set in
prehistoric motion wondering in the places
taken for granted moons earlier
if not for perfect machinery misused
Crowded now by a guilt pondered in place
of the substance for which it was as a means conceived
Men so fallen and unable to rise but like
a baker's dough slowly as a life rebuilt
an end promised therefore as a dream in sight
But to reach such heights self-doubt
resists preferring rather the gleam and
nostalgia and the memory of soldiers bearing
higher ranks

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