Train Tracks                        

 

 

 

Does his reach exceed his grasp?

Or her grasp exceed her reach?

Are the meams presented daily –

Stopping Each, their choice?

     Should it matter?

 

 

            Choices!

                        Like restrictions of marbles

Placed bluntly, blatantly and hastily

Within the funnel;

                        Travel only one way

Down but before reaching the ground,

Ask yourself questions concerning existence,

Ask yourself quietly,

Where within this funnel of life are you tossed?

 

 

            How big be your orbit,

When sociologies restrictions

Determine exactly,

Whether life at its full – be exempt.

 

 

            Do you question the role of the

Hand that rolls?

Is your circumference the all that you seek?

Are the feelings of purging momentum in fleeing

The roll of the die,

Present and clear upon stained stubborn tables,

Invented for gambling the craps?

 

 

            Is this gamble, ‘a gamble?’

When kinetics and potential state

Without warning; the level of sanity

Presented and fumbled

At bottom of funnel of glass?

 

 

            The hand that belligerently throws

Without knowing, often determines

Whether the life of the marble,

Travels fast or slow,

Clockwise or anti clockwise,

The top or the bottom,

            And I question the killing of

A God too slow, quick with his hand

To dispense of a soul,

            But do you?

 

 

            All broken and spouting

Aware of the route, do you whilst

Claiming deep in your truth,

            Have the courage to shatter,

            To break and to scatter,

The funnel of glass, restricting

Your movement in life?

 

 

 

Michael J Waite 1^st January 2010.