As I Lay; I Ponder

I lay, looking up at the saffire sky, absent of clouds that merrily fly on by. I peer off into the this deep blue sea, unsure of much and timid with heavy pleas. The grass I lay on is thick and rough, scratching my neck yet my skin is quite tough. I look beside to see a little bug scurrying around, and new thoughts fill my head, now insight-bound. The bug goes on with his short, little life, yet feels nothing short of very light strife. It breeds and eats, and then it soon dies, fulfilling its purpose, one of nature's spying eyes. So simple with meaning this bug that I see, does so much that it never had dreamed. Now I look into the limbs of a tree, The bottom half now dying, yet the top half new-born. The tree I know has aged far beyond my years, yet it has never felt one single tear. The grandeur it possesses cannot be denied, for it is truly great to view such a life. But no emotions to trouble its tired old mind, and no mind to control what course it takes in line. Then I look at bird lost in flight, for they are magnificent above all life's plight. Protected from what may consume them below, their wings push them higher, against the weight of tow. They soar above land, and above great oceans, birds are a creature of perfect inner-notion. Yet their fault lies in the face of a shield, they cannot see up close what troubles may yield. So what have I accomplished through philosophical thought? The answer is nothing for this cannot be taught. It is a struggle within your own mind, so sit in a meadow, and forget about time. There an answer that suits you best, will undeniably rest. Written December 22nd, 2001 © on Dec 21 2001 04:51 PM PST   0 • 12