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Commerce
My concern is not commerce
Nor the flow of business
Nor the smooth face that sleeps at night
But rather the lined face
the weathered face
that has risked
has seeked
to move, to dive
beneath the surface
To feel what other's have not felt
Nor dared to feel
what has receded into darkness
To spin lead into gold
To seek mystery
rather than the predictable gray
of pin striped suits
moving on their way
To make a life where voices sing
not from the tomb
but about everything
The birds
the great wonder of trees
the bark of dogs
breaking the silence of the night
Even the grind of motors
that men have built
spreading seeds of human guilt
It is this sense
this sense of wonder
so lost in modern blunder
that I seek to keep alive
even as I strive
to preserve
the very self
that seeking self
that keeps me alive
Will I make it to the end?
Only God can know
for men pretend to know
the answers
explain the truth
the human truth
Am I just a child who refuses to grow up
And accept the fact that we can never know,
never know, never know?
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