Saturday, October 10, 2009

As I Look Out Over The City

How they run their little races round
The merry old oak of human knowledge
They go about this age old tree
Seeking out new knots and dreams
Trying hard to find their ways
Trying hard not to wake up yet
Maybe if they run a little faster
They won’t have to stop the games they play
They won’t have to wake up yet
So they try to find their way around
Try so hard to make sense of this circle
They spiritualize every leaf and shadow
They refuse to see the rest of the forest
How foolish are these little children
To think but one tree is the world
But they will never even see its crown
Not unless they stop their games round
The breaking pillar that is this world
And see the shining sun that gives life
To each leaf, and branch, and acorn
And climb out the trench of a rutt called life
And run no more in repeated circles
But instead find the straight path
Of this blue disc of ours
That runs to the stars and beyond the sky
Into the arms of the Eternal Heartbeat

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