If it is written, so be it,
but who'll admit
to writing what was writ
when the fan is hit?
And, if, having inscribed,
the finger does proceed,
whose digit was it
when the words were decreed?
Yet, carved in stone,
or etched on glass,
who'll confess to pouring such concrete
when it comes to pass?
In the whirlwind of time, who said that seconds are decreed?
That your steps must align with others’ concrete success indeed,
That arrival is an unyielding mandate, and deviation a defect?
You see them climbing the spires of their creation without regret.
In iron and glass they carve their legacy, while you remain silent,
A shadow frozen in the ruins of dreams that never grew vibrant,
With hands weary from the burden of unfinished things,
You whisper to life's algorithm: "Recalculate, don't leave me behind!"
But time is no engineer, nor a gentle, loving architect,
It's just the scaffold beneath your feet, moving only when you dare to fly.
Did the monolith mourn it didn’t rise with the first light?
Or did the river curse its flow for not sculpting the world in a single moment?
You’re not behind; you’re just a separate code unfolding,
A unique sequence evolving and flying at its own rhythm,
In a story never meant to synchronize,
But to follow its own course, unchained by time and space.
On this old adage, let's ponder
'Absence makes the heart grow fonder'
So when we feel from God distance
Know He’s within and not yonder
We look to God for assistance
But ego offers resistance
So we feel separate from source
Not quite aligned with existence
When we feel stirrings of remorse
For our wayward thoughts and deeds coarse
Tremulous heart for God's grace pines
'Tis then soul and darkness divorce
When head and heart with love aligns
We play our role as God assigns
Fears and desires in time recede
His light within finally shines
Love and light as our sturdy steed
All we do is follow it's lead
Boundaries blur, nodes within stir
We become God’s light, as decreed
09-February-2023
a decreed directive
was ordained by
the queen
one ordering a
sequencing
direction change
to be made
immediately
in order to
comply with
the new emotional
ordinance
divine destiny
decided before birth
delivered on life’s course
determines life on earth
designates direction
or
doubts after choices
doodled guilt maybes
disturbed self-image
desires need to believe
destiny caused everything
[SIZE=5][B]Reaping Whatever Dark Gods Decreed[/B][/SIZE]
Did we dare too much thus reap the bitter wind?
Dark, greedy days creep by, our lives grown far apart
Is this how such treasured and deep love dares to end?
Like cast away trash in a street beggar's cart?
Did we fail, reaping whatever dark Gods decreed?
Penny a ton, garbage flowing into a dump?
Nay my love! We both found our lost, bitter seed.
Fallen from a well-worn, broken treeless stump!
Why did we abandon the blazing heat of our lust?
Step into dark regions to satisfy morbid dreams.
We are thus decayed, our metal eaten with rust.
Joined Fates, destined to be on separate teams!
Yet my love, all you had to do was believe in me.
We both sharing truth from the same golden tree.
R.J. Lindley
Sept 16th, 1976
Old Note-- Life carries on, I find solace in wild woods,
whiskey and memories....( Sept 16th, 1976 )
New Note-- Hope and Fate have conspired to let me live to see
that youthful woes, follies and exciting life sought are the makings of sadness
that teach one must no stray too far from the LIGHT! ( 6-07-2016 ).
Those who have are fewer still
Than all the castles edged with time's ruin
The havenots lack no sparse of will
To litter their bread on a fruitless moon
When the wars are done, let us count
The silent millions by hunger killed
The mirage of Ponce De Leon's fount
The phony honor in laws we billed
I shall never be silent while life remains
Nor prune with logic the stunted trees
Man's injustice brought me here in chains
I shall not on your Dura bend my knees
O children, black, yellow, green, or white
Dust must be the serpent's food and not us
The new spate of homeless veiled from sight
Not us saddled and burdened with disgust
O hear me, and steal you for the final fight
Against this enemy snaked around our toil
We shall no more drink the bitter milk of night
Nor yield an inch of power or soil.
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