A Fresh Look
What have I?—as I learn the language I believe from above—why look I to what have I not?
Know I the kink amid trying hard and giving up?—by how it feels?—not by every neuron—
Thus know I the kink between determinism and fatalism—between trying hard and giving up
Thus have I at least a feel for responsibility—for the difference of ‘careful’ and ‘no care.’
I know that Jesus says, “Stop judging.”—which charges us to look unto ourselves—
Teaching us we do not see—not with sufficient depth to know what drives a word or action
Yet depth sufficing to obey commands engendered of sagacity—to abjure our foolishness—
Which drives us to seek the good—though we know not how we think—
Driving us to talk like philosophers—O God!—whirling in controversy or maybe taking sides
Much have I— yet, yet yet—I have not all I wish to have.
“Be content with the present things,” says the apostle—to us squirming ones—
Leaving me to choose contentment or a wrestling with God.
Yippie yie yo—Fall colors fade—
Kai yea.
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