Wake up, wake up! It’s artful day
knocking on your window
pane
ready to lay claim to
soul
and twist the truth
into a lie.
So warm it feels and
comfortable
like a much loved cashmere
sweater
and we step into the day
seemingly well-armed
and yet unprepared for
what may befall.
For those who carry
night into day
the lies stab the heart
with ferocious intent
and sadness sinks down
deep, deep, inside
when knowing that soul
has no part to play.
So be it; it’s just a
gigantic stage play
that keeps both
audience and participants
totally wrapped up and
enthralled
with the trivial and
insignificant.
I watch from the side lines;
sometimes I do,
and sometimes distance
myself totally
but how hard it is to
clap and cheer
those, oh, so many
little things.
What purpose life if
the meaningful lost
in the total onslaught
of those little things
that causes the soul to
disappear
and be as if it was
not?