I'd love to linger
forever in this world
, honestly. I love it. I'd love to strike
sweet deals with higher powers that be, to keep me
vigorous and incorruptible
on a permanent basis, on a non-metempsychotic
bodhisattva vow of some sort. And oh,
I would do my part! In exchange, I'd do
- oh heck who am I kidding, it's to do
that I want the deal.
But I know that won't happen.
This world is not our final home,
But I can see
that this world is the place to be,
this world is the forge - we create who we are,
and who we will be. From, as has been so beautifully said:
We're born into raw materials, a
tiny gurgling thing, and with circumstance. As we grow,
our grasp on self takes hold, and we
begin to direct who we are and who we will be
-come. Through our own choice, our one chance,
our true self is, and takes shape. Makes itself, self-made
, every choice defines us, that we make. Can we
do anything? Anything we will? Anything we please?
Please, no. No, our circumstance and our raw material will
impose some limits. Yet
we can and do make every choice we make. And every day,
this is how we create
- is an incredible gift. And even if it turns
out there is no Giver, our self is the gift
we give back.
Let us remember we are dust, let's make love
and make war, and make God damned sure
our dust is not all we will leave
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.