The deliberator
liberates.
Freed from war to fight no more and only peace will reign.
Discussions rushing to conclusions
and whatever they may be
we come to see that in the end
the great designer will defend against the crushing weights we bear.

Who out there could be denied
the power that lives,
resides inside us, each and every one
until the spirit dies.

Then gone,
the force which animates
creates the person that we are or will become
and day is done.

I look into the distant eye that looks at me and wonder why or where or when
we’ll meet head on and then I wonder if I ever knew
and if I did,
did you?
The plan,
the man that never understood
when all looks bad, in fact it’s going good,
the master stroke
the smoke within the mirror curling
this life
like rivers swirling in their endless quest.

My destiny must be, to see it all before the final fall, when I tumble head over heels into the one who feels and the trumpet calls me in to tea, where once again my eyes can see the distance in the eye that looks at me.

One day we’ll all be free.
copyright © John Smallshaw all rights reserved

Advertisements