Against Stale Current
Essential is it to unite
to pressing questions answers which
may open roads to knowledge, might
prepare fulfillment shared and rich.
Unused to being understood,
his insight into others bores,
the trees he sees, ignores not wood
nor would - for blinkers he abhors.
A sense of purpose has withstood
positions frozen, - chosen doors
open on mission, inner good
opposing pride and rotten cores.
Against stale 'current', with hale stream
of light and life he'd soar serene,
is it surprising that such gleam
untouched remains, unshared.
(25 December 1997 robi03_0859_robi03_0000 XXX_JXX)
Lonely One Wanders
Lonely, one wanders through cowed crowd,
awaiting some supportive rays,
with warmth, complicity endowed -
beamed circlet lighthouse dream replays.
Absent present, head in cloud,
through surface calm true strength displays
both strong emotions, soul unbowed,
balm soothing offers, hope relays.
One threads paths strange, by most unploughed,
transforming fallow fields in ways
astonishing to assets vowed
as fertile, fruitfulness which stays
abundant, want, waste disavowed.
Prosperity which rich repays
time, trouble, taken, cries aloud
for friendship solitude allays.
Perception, seldom understood,
with insight into others bores,
trees, wood unsawed seen, both bad, good,
subjective blinkers lack bed, board.
Enlightenment misdeeds withstood,
to ploughshare turns destructive sword,
should’s soon converted into would,
hermit crabbiness abhorred.
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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