A Clear Night’s Sky
When I look up at a clear night’s sky
A sense of mystery catches my eye.
Am gripped by the vastness of creation;
Doubt-driven towards meditation.
As though the world’s creator
Sees me as a gladiator.
Have faith in spite of the dark,
When hope there is not a spark.
He wants me to feel small and lost;
Quite helpless, uncertain, ever tossed
In a world neither kind nor free
To bequeath anything but mystery.
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Ron
That just about sums up my philosophy of life. I used to think I was free here in America. I don't anymore. Enjoyed your poem, as I usually do. You have a lot going on inside that head of yours.