From the womb it seems I birthed into a cocoon
Cant say I had known for sometime I was alive
Much learnt whilst unaware for almost four years
My memories say I'm one calendar says I'm five
Things that seemed important over sixty years ago
The latest shaped shoes or a top ten hit parade song
At fifteen peer pressure shaped how I would behave
Learning to discover where I would eventually belong
No manuals to assist a father raise three young children
Imparting to dependants the way I had been mentored
Dealing with an aggressive workplace, finances and self
At thirty overwhelmed, swearing in this poem is censored
A new century arrived grandfathering is such a blessing
Responsibilities of existence have largely been lightened
Now turned fifty still feeling some traces of distant youth
A positive outlook on life has recently become heightened
Having reached the age of seventy over eight years ago
As an alternative thinker there is a chance I am outcast
I am far removed from alignment with majority opinion
Rejecting thoughts postulating how much time I might last
Open your own sacred text,
you will find it where you last left it;
will it be within you or elsewhere?
Like most things mislaid
you will find it when you stop searching.
I once met a man with clear eyes,
when I looked into them
I saw myself there,
and what I perceived from afar
as alien and different
I now clearly recognize,
as a love reflected.
Many of the night stars we see
are no more,
and yet there they are
still shinning.
We are like that.
Perception is a cloudy day.
Jesus had to lose his face
to discover his face
When he saw that visage
there were no more cloudy days -
no more Jesus.
Some ask:
“Why do you glorify a God?
How primitive and immature.”
Yet those who see further
know that
everything that is and was
is an individual variation of the One.
This is what we glorify.
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