once upon a delusion. . . 
Age was quite bright eye’d
and content; she paid her dues,
stay’d in her little box of comfort,
and work’d incessantly
by the tick of the clock
set in motion  by the scribes
who frown’d whenever they were
challeng’d

for a while, Age was cool with
accepting things as they were. . .

but then something strange occur’d,
and the bright eye’d curiosity of Age
became weary from being left out
of the decision making process,

she was frustrated not knowing what
was really going on behind
the clouds of history’s pain,

Age was perturb’d by the way
that Knowledge kept her blind
and felt her questions were more
inconvenient than her right to know,

so Age just mov’d along in the
silent glow of David’s Star;

and just went along with the program,
having nothing more to wish upon

she allow’d her future
to thumb a ride in the mist of
galactic darkness,  all along
the lonely road of life she
overheard Heartache, Fear and Boredom,
gossip shamelessly like a a ménage a trois
of cyclones wrapping their tails around
her neck, choking off her coping mechanism

for all Age had to look forward to
was a lifetime of precautions
she no longer enjoy’d her life;
she accept’d what she was told
there was absolutely no way
for her to prepare herself for the
never-ending side effects that
the wind shear of change
threw into her walking trail
purposely left unindex’d

on her roadmap. . .

looking back,
if it were possible for Age
to murmur to the one
who cement’d the stars
around the circumference
of a fallen moon,
she might have attempt’d
to beg David's Star for one more chance
to regain a few of life’s untold stories,

stories that she never had permission to tell, stories that were so cruelly snatch’d
from the grip of her weather’d palm,
immobiliz'd in the wake of an expir’d Reality that whisk’d away her redemption like poison pok'd into an innocent vein.

© 2005-2006 cynth’ya lewis reed
all rights reserv’d