Village Idiot Publishing (C) 2000 Diary of a Spirit
A SUBTLE DAY DREAM
Bright shining skies,
With clusters of snow white clouds,
That hold a mystery within,
And bring forth life in due season.
Shimmering stars at night,
Give notice to an immaculate creation,
And makes one wonder,
If it all could end someday.
The beauty of fine weather,
And how it makes people forget about work,
And just drift away, like the clouds up above.
They seek to drift endlessly in thought,
Wishing they were free, to do as they please.
But oh the drudgery of work,
And how it steals us from mother earth.
Robbing us of that connection,
Which makes us human.
Winter rules like a tyrant,
As the frigid winds torment our bodies.
Another day of pain, and survival,
Make us pray for spring to come soon.
The modern conveniences, can't help us escape,
The thought that death waits Outside our front door.
And to those abandoned,
We pray they will escape,
The impending doom they face, each day.
But a day of spring brings a twinkle,
To our eyes,
And a thought of relief, is with us.
Hoping to catch A glimpse of life, for a moment,
That will last forever,
Knowing it may only last a day.
But for the day, it is substantial,
To heal the misery, that mother earth brings forth,
And challenges one and all.
And for those whose time is short,
And bodies withered and weak,
A day of life is bestowed upon them,
And strength is returned to their bones.
But life in all is a sweetness,
In a nectar that we seldom taste,
And our lives are consumed with madness,
Which we see as pot-pore.
How else could we accept such an existence,
Which binds us to not be free.
For freedom is something that all men seek,
And how we define it, is purely ones own dream.