SAVOUR THIS, MY CHILD
Nothing reflects reality
Like God’s supreme beauty.
Look into the mirror, child,
And see His greatest reward:
Savour it in thanksgiving, for a while:-
No matter how many times you do,
You’ll always see God’s precious beauty
Looking back at you: this will always be true:-
Know that your beauty has its fragility, needing
To be anchored and solidified before it can be
Sanctified utility: codifying its glorifying liberty:-
based rather loosely upon all the misinformation we receive
we latch onto opportunity to decide what should be believed
propelled by wants and needs, racing headlong toward uncertain future
forgetting day shall come when none remember who, what or if we were
obscuring right and wrong, hoping results cause consensus to appear
over the tortured course of many a long and distinguished career
guided ever onward by words and solemn wisdom from those who weren't
living an existence which we will claim to be fully transparent
overconfidence codifying into shining satisfactions
hiding the attempts to equip our lives with selective redactions
struggling tirelessly to establish the very nature of what is
careful measuring of murky depths shows how unwise placing trust is
eventually becoming lost in process of analysis
Old Farmer’s Almanac -
Goes on sale 9/8/16
Sitting, witch like,
around a cast iron stove
wood crackling
as they confer…
Old Farmers
digging through
the soil of time
gathering the harvest
of experience
stirring the simmering
success of the years.
Codifying the coincidences
highlighting the absurdities
poking fun at the pundits
trusting the thickness
of the squirrels tale
to estimate the intent
of the coming winter.
Prognosticators
sifting the ashes
of long cold fires,
seers seeking wisdom
within the knowledge
of their touch,
within the history
of their hands,
filtered through
their simple trust
one in another
offering guidance,
breadcrumbs
to be followed
a passion preserved
a love passed on.
John G. Lawless
9/5/2015
a blue and black butterfly is what you are to me
a picture on a card i take out to see
when i'm with you, you flutter inside my head
butterfly wishes and dreams are what i'm being feed
and when i open your precious note
with craving i read the words you wrote
a declaration taken from dreams to hope
and a signature at the end
codifying what was wrote
such small letters, a weakness to me
something to protect i can clearly see
something that i needed from someone like you
a need to be needed from a friend so true
love john
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