Life As Perceived Reality
Life As Perceived Reality
We believe and think what beings we are;
Juiced up ready to expel our seeds
to create new generations of replications.
Each with different bumps and rinds divided within,
but in the end, can we really tell one from the other?
What history was written? What tales were told?
Where would our essence go next?
The lemon and lime ponder the finality
Destiny takes us through each vector
and we live life as if it matters.
Reward and struggle makes the day important
to the ones who stay.
Why-wherefore queries would often seem
to lead to equivalent questions but from different questioners.
shall we all arrive at the same conclusions in circulations?
Semantic variables confuse and dissociate until the "why"
split like a atom becomes a force to be reckoned with,
an uncontrollable exhortation which like the wild stallion
is difficult to tame.
We excel in greatness born of trauma, ending in trauma
the pluralistic motivator of the human race
without which, all would all die as a mundane abstractions.
There has to be, more than soul malnourishment
or psyche incompatibilities that fire the ovens of our discontent.
But for the millennium of existence
man's emotional evolution progresses little,
All of the incarnations and soul needs
have been left unsatisfied and yet we still hunger
for a messiah to complete our missions.
.
The free will of maneuverability concedes
the interpretation to mean a narrow winded road
with little room to avoid oncoming traffic;
an open highway with eternal destinations
that never seem to close the open gaps
between the beginning and the end,
until one learns that the beginning was the end
Glory in goodness, as darkness will surely follow.
The earth sends this message with each rotation
In radiant awe and heart hurting sadness
Possibilities are endless it is said.
Once chosen the now becomes the beginning
and the possibilities again become
endless until the final second
when it all ends as prescribed by the prescriber.
Perhaps then, one may see clearly
what was before us all the time
and is thankful that the curtain
finally closes on the succession of plays.
Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2014
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