Saturday, June 9, 2012

Snow on Leaves

We don’t know enough to tear down the House of God, for a
       new or even old philosophy!
Somewhere along the line we’ve slept perhaps too long in the 
       open fields, had we not—enjoying the sun and fruits—had  We not,  we’d know much more than what we do…   Perchance we’ve slept too long, watching the stars go over the   
       edge of the earth, conceivably, it was all worth it though…
We don’t know enough to move into the houses of astronomy, 
       and we’ve just recently got into the house of archaeology and anthropology—and came up with new faiths, one called
        Evolution, which has a few other adjoining tributaries: Fixations attached; and already we’re formed new beliefs
       out of them: ready again to tear down those old steeples And Pillars in the Cathedrals…, that’s been standing in place For a few thousand years, for a theory no older than my Great
I want to be sure, and true of the light given me, before I do!  
The Donkey’s like blind followers. I what to know why?
Donkeys have led us into so may empty fields, every decade
       updating those old roots, to make more sense out of them,
Telling us mules to believe in their updated metaphysical
       sciences— the very ones they said a decade earlier, were
Written in Stone… now the stone is chipped (again)
Leading us to the waterhole like lacy lice…because they got a
       Ph.D., which says they should know…the wisest of the Wise, as Plato would say, ‘…should lead.’
But Plato didn’t listen to Socrates, whom he so adored, and
       whom Socrates would, and did die for his belief, in one God, over Greece’s mythology…
I like simple things—like Socrates did: wine, a good woman,
       conversation,  everything under control: he was a man among men and held the philosophy: no one cares
       how much you know, until you show how much you care.
That makes more sense to me.
In a like manner: I like snow on leaves, swimming in a creek,
       even a mud puddle will do; or, dreaming of fishing, and Then going fishing, the anticipation  being better than the act. Music, horseback riding, a good book to read, a nice sunset:
And all the Donkeys want out of us mules is make God
       our enemy, as they have! Why? 

Note:  #3357 (5-30-2012)