Ther Vine Keeper

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Sunday, October 3, 2010

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.

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