Life is already very tiring
What to do if you don't even
Have a spiritual sustenance
To a lover, life is inspirational
To a painter, the world is a canvas
To a farmer, the field is a worlplace
To a businessman, everything is a profit
To a writer, everything comes from an idea
To a poet, everything is delight of beauty
To a sickly, life is too tiring to live
It's God's mercy that one sickly to preserve
How I wish that everything we do has precaution
To lurk a danger is everything stop or slomo
Or send a warning message in the mind instantly
But no wisdom of precaution for a freeman
For a free moral agent is free for all commodities
Free for success and failure, free to do anything
Free for all qualifications in love and life
Everything in life has its ordeal and mantra
Any assurance is only goodness that is valid
To validate life's itenirary and soul's salvation
Life is not really free in accountancy
We expect every action for any accountability
Life is borrowed and expect the Master appear
To take accounting for His business investment.
Accountancy
It was a quiet day, I was driving around
with my camera, but not in the mood
to take pictures of my Savannah
which is today a flat piece of land between
to hills that look like the bosom
of a golden queen
I counted trees instead.
When 15, I worked in an accountancy office
mainly because my mother wanted me
to go to work wearing a suit
It was boring for relief I made numbers
into human figures, I thought 8 was cute
the boss didn't, I was fired, and my mother brought
the suit back to the second-hand shop
I went back to school and trained as a cook
on ships, that was ok, but I got bored and
the hours were long
Back to school again, I became an officer doing the books
200 bushes and trees before the bridge
the job has become superfluous,
ships have crew
usually from India, often poorly paid
The technology is called
From the bridge to the village, I counted
of Benafim, I counted 400 hundred olive trees
and 245 almond trees
Loudly howled the gale
To mark the last breath fail
The rain also cried
When the last man died
Polar caps had long since melted away
Sea levels had grown higher every day
Small hills now each an island state
All because we left it too late
For actions delayed by accountancy rules
Had come too late for those in our schools
To ever live a life like those before them
Victims of denial by far too many men
Awake I now recalled this dream
And hope we will avoid this scene
One that man might come to rue
But the future's up to me and you
©Rhumour
June 8th 2009
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