The visions of a fool
Old men dream they can run again
Little boys dreaming of becoming me
Young men dreaming of skirts
Life is an unequivocal wonder
Filled with inevitabilities
That are realized far too soon
We purse elusive truths
Beckoning our paths to reconcile our desires
But “Truth” knows not of the character of “Mercy”
The toils we suffer
Perhaps lend a compassion
Perhaps not
It does yet serve the soft-hearted
He who seeks a spiritual epiphany
They say “Grace” visits the abode of the meek
Those who have lost their “Warrior Spirit”
Seeking no more the conquest
Content to abide
Side by Side
In the reflective face of their hunger
And thirsts
Isaiah called out the words
In prophesy he uttered
“Come”
Come and buy milk with no money
Eat, Drink ‘til thy Soul is Fat
Who is the fool that has visions of strength
To overcome the balance
Of that which is Eternal ?
Shall the child tip the scales,
And give favor
To the weary ?
I close my eyes
And visit upon the darkness
Holding to my delusion
While hoping to conjure a silence
Where the voices rival not
Any more.
The Visions of a fool
© 4 March 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.
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