In Finite Terms - 0987
When Fate's soft tick flicks safely by
when fête holds sway old Time must fly
"and not a cloud obscures the sky"
why worry, pleasure now deny?
For joys tomorrow soul soars high.
True, some are smitten, springs run dry,
yet few heed inner warning cry.
to mist dimiss, wave Time goodbye.
Fate may be written, it may lie,
behind the veil is passing sigh,
more is assumed in store so why
seek answers which no gold can buy.
For, if there's more, hope cannot die,
if nothing, then why worry, high
and low in turn their fate defy,
then wave forgot sink twixt sea, sky.
Life's transience, quite underrated,
too rarely is appreciated
as if the spirits, once elated,
could keep their thrust unmitigated.
What lies beyond the tombstone dated
has never been elucidated,
though many have prevaricated
redemption offer unabated.
Yet dances led, with lead unweighted,
quickstep through life, Death unawaited.
Why worry if the dice are weighted
with finite term anticipated?
When Time speeds up and hell-for-leather
is pressured onwards, storm tossed feather.
how drear each day to wonder whether
tomorrow's game we'll play together!
Ignored too often altogether
are ice-burst pipes in balmy weather,
or sacrificial goat on tether,
when life's free run on hill, vale, heather.
Dim is victim's prescience
despite disaster's imminence,
secure perception complements
self-satisfaction's arguments.
Men draw their sense of permanence
from self-supporting evidence
behind life's surface comforts whence
much is drawn, save diffidence.
Life's patterns in advance may churn
a warning aura we discern
through experience, concern,
here cause, effect, respect must earn
before anxieties return
to haunt, to taunt, or bridges burn.
Life's patterns in advance who turn
to true advantage, all peace yearn.
Unwise who'll sapless, saphead, spurn
the hints that candles one can't burn
at both ends long. Yet each must learn
alone wheels turn. Urn soon we earn.
How much of man's self-confidence
is self-sustaining self-defence,
a mechanism fear prevents
although at prudence expense.
The coin cards of coincidence,
that noise to others represents,
turn to advantage, making sense
of elements which signs dispense
which seed the sentiment events
may be controlled as 'whither' 'whence'
seem linked by dream intelligence
that lasts although we're hurried hence.
When cloud free shines the morning star
dawn's rose grows gold, presumes too far,
as if no shadow near or far
could compromise success, could jar,
could ever dowse life's vital fire,
as if, once launched, the poet's lyre
could chant forever and inspire,
nor bore nor jaw resentful ire.
Man's pride still heeds the siren call
til morn when free flight turns free fall.
that day one lesson learns, that small
sweet seems to gleam when night threats all.
Then narrow the circumference
of independence seems, intense
the pressure, the predicaments,
when arguments can't influence,
invalidate or overturn,
decisions others would confirm,
when former freedoms won't return
to light horizons dim and tern.
Those who rely on providence
too soon may find at their expense
that everlasting affluence
rhymes rarely with experience.
There is no 'Ave' no 'Marie',
no Eden for eternity.
Perjured he who'd guarantee
an endless hour in houri spree.
There is no golden throne and grand
when falls life's last coarse grain of sand
[the spectre of reign's written hand
of course reins in things out of hand].
There's no white rabbit, magic hat,
no second innings where the bat
defies Time's ball. When that is that!
dreams of karmic streams fall flat.
When Fate's hand, tricked and trumped, turns black
dark Present weighs, no turning back
to glories past. When cares attack
fair opportunities all lack.
Reflect! Each given day completed
is stay of execution greeted
before the final judgement meted
when hope for fair appeal's defeated.
Reflect! What future radiance shines
For anyone beyond life's lines?
Enjoy today! The Present signs
itself, as Cause Effect aligns.
(16 Febuary 2002)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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