being contemplative

being contemplative

contemplative thought is vying for my attention

but i don’t really feel like being bothered

i just wish to sit and be in a place of non being

to not be bothered i’d rather

the rain is coming down just outside my door

a primal acoustic symphony

a percussive display of the Heaven’s thought

being expressed . . . to Mother

and here i am being contemplative

bored perhaps, maybe tired

sorting life, sifting through dreams and such

reflective on things i could have done

should have done

would have done

yet not done  . . . yet

will they ever . . come to be

we’ll see . . .won’t we

and here i am being contemplative

the people are like Taxi Cabs

some yellow, many not

in a hurry to get on down the road

to what

destinations we envision

fed to us by television

and such

so much

i touch

and here i am being contemplative

yes the rains come down

washing my soul consciousness

that i may freshly dress thee

with new visions of the morrow

beyond the sorrow

and the horror

of indifference

found in me, thee

and here i am being contemplative

i will not plead

with my soul

for it is already whole

so i’ve been told

but yet it is cold

out here my dear

cheer for fear is the chant

the soldiers of a new order rant

can i . . .can i not

i can, i can’t

and here i am being contemplative

the tears of heaven offer cessation

to my quixotic drifting elation

of their impending reminder

may life be somewhat kinder

to all those who have not

may catch up to who got

and may the chalice be filled

with memories of the blood and tears spilled

upon our hopes for the morrow

cleansed of the sorrow

i see in my souls “I”

it is just you and “EYE”

and how we see it

isn’t it

and here i am being contemplative

(c) 3 October 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.