Disguised Reality
Dare we ride the crest
Time's wave of undertows
Amidst strangling strands of ancient webs
Swirling beneath ebb's replenishment
That which has glided atop the shores of one's experience
Pulling back for tomorrow's archives
The swath of conscience at test
Our tide that either caresses Time's journey-sands
Or clutters its shores with one's jetsam
Bile's of fear still clinging to desperation
Unwilling to abandon the drift of unfulfilled life
Hooking a tangential ride
For yet another disguised reality
Courage knows not undercurrents as enemies
Only as resonance surging
Dare we peer beneath the crest?
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Why so many know so little about what is happening right under our feet that causes almost everything from weather to what we eat. The primal thrust for survival of even the most primitive elements of existence. Probably why we war or don't pick up our trash, unfortunately.
Ron