life’s purpose

by

the good citizen…

the good citizen

like everyone
in
middletown
he arose early
and
grabbed
a quick bite
before
heading
off to work
his assignment
each day
was
to
draw perfect circles
in
the sand
with nothing more
than
a willow rod
in
his hand
none
of the circles
were perfect
and
those that
approximated
perfection
were quickly
washed away
by
the tide
one would think
that
discouragement
would soon set in
but
he always accepted
his believed fate
and
day after day
would return
to the same spot
on the beach
and
repeat the task
until
he
was washed away

by

even when…

even when

his prayers
never
saved
a single soul
nor
kept death
from
the doors
of
those he loved
his
devotions
to
the divine
were
his hopes
offered
to
his
beliefs
not
to
any one god
just
a simple contract
with 
himself
so as
to
have a reason
for
awakening

 

 

by

shall we dance…

the brown bag prophet
was holding
a most unusual sign
given
what
he
had said
previously to me
about
religion
it read
you must believe
when
i questioned him
about
this matter
the prophet
said
faith
is necessary
it
gives
meaning
to
meaningless
human
agendas
fills
the void
created
by
an impending death
it’s like
having
one of those
old dance cards
a card
completely
filled out
for the evening
knowing
all the while
there’s
only
one dance
left