They say our reach should exceed our grasp. I hope they're right.
Drifting without moving, he became one with the silence, wondering, dreaming. If man is meant to prosper, then why do we choke him? Why do we tell him no? He digs deep and pulls up his very soul. Through the window of his eye, it's gleaming. Catching the wave of emotion, will he sink? Will he ride within its flow?
Pondering endlessly, Wandering aimlessly, Is it a riddle? Is it a joke? Is it real? Its punitive tease, Its relative ease, Does he see? Does he understand? Does he feel?
Quickly, yet ponderously, he beckons. Answer me! Finish what you teach! Will they lift the burdensome load? Will they break down the forbidding wall? He weaves the thread of knowledge beyond all hope, beyond all reach. He sought with reason. He didn't ask for much. He simply wanted it all.
Lane Diamond (David B. Lane) April 5, 1988 Count: N/A (Prose)
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
Using Calgary as a backdrop the author satirizes the self-serving nature of the public as it continues to fatten itself, not only physically, but egotistically as well.
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