A proliferation of activity, still a quiet earth,
Docile she seems besides the aspect of Birth,
Waves crashing over my earth-drenched senses,
Peace which ‘could be’ threatens my existence.
Energy abounds, the earth shakes and moves,
Heaven-bound tests, the ocean, the groove,
Symbolic perhaps of space, time and reality,
Life moves on with a deafening finality.
Peace for a time, sure, it never seems the case,
We’re often stricken from its eternal grace,
Still we attend to the grace-led challenge,
Our hearts as they are—an unavoidable phalange.
The choice of perception, earth, wind and trees,
A moment’s thought—a bucket full of fleas!
Our minds caught in a horrifying swamp,
Battle-scarred and torn, everything left for want.
What is life, so rich, so enchanting?
But a pocketful of scrabble and a voice so demanding,
We straddle the day with such glistening aplomb,
Never knowing quite what it was we did wrong.
Moments of time seem to roll by,
Ordinarily hitched we unlock but try,
A mystery in time we seek to unravel,
A Clockwork Orange—impossible to travel.
So what are we left with we all must ask,
But to fathom and fail life’s chock-full task,
And as we seem to scratch and wonder,
It’s beyond us all, God’s heaven-found plunder.
We can but take it day by day,
Grasp more of it we destine a horrible array!
For in this we see a life in the making,
When we’re realistic it’s all for the taking.
We view life on its truth-laden terms,
Other than this—a bucket full of worms!
So we stand adorned for the present,
It becomes us you see to live life interdependent.
I wrote this poem at a beach. I was seeing so much of life just happening around me. Peace so elusive and meaning too, we grapple with the complexity of life, often failing to see its simplicity.
Our perceptions limit us so. We’re often our own worst enemies. Never mind.
Yet, life as we know it in this world is so amazing, so big; so vast. The planet and life are so dynamic, yet the nature of earthly life too is so “docile.” Like a giant she moves slowly.
We clamour and stumble and fail often. It’s okay.
We try to ‘manage our time,’ controlling it, or so it seems. But this takes us to realms of ‘planned madness.’
We must see that this life and the understanding of it is far beyond us, totally. It’s okay. We can but accept this life. We do so on “its” terms—wise, we live a life in harmony with creation, and the human world we’re part of.
© 2010 S. J. Wickham.