Some perceive the hand
Of God when fates conspire,
Finding peace therein;
Others scream defiantly
In the teeth of raging winds.
Some perceive the hand
Of God when fates conspire,
Finding peace therein;
Others scream defiantly
In the teeth of raging winds.
Oh, joyous morning
Punctuated by the grump
Sleep deprived adolescent
Caught between the rocks
Of grieving over treasures
Lost yet also reveling
In pleasure over finding
Carcass not yet dead
And still they gather waiting
Congress of vultures
Sucks that nine to five
Has become our time at home
And much of that we’re sleeping!
Borne for unknown shores
At mercy of wind and wave
We hapless flotsam
From ragged verdant verge
Eruptes a freckled fawn
Frightened into flight
Not long after dawn
By the sudden sight
On the lower lawn
Of, clad in crimson bright,
clumsy human spawn,
Who, in turn, was shocked
By the sudden charge
Of that tiny fawn
That seemed so very large.
Peace replaced by peril in a single instant,
A unity of terror in the minds of infants.
Misty tendrils flow
Like sea waves breaking over
Verdant hills and vales
If your garden fails
to flourish, you must amend
the soil, not the flowers.
Further harmony:
Deny not the evil, yet
Focus, rather, on the good.