Tender your sorrows with laughter –
The eagle’s beak remains curved,
The snake’s tongue, forked.
You will not find it where they found it.
Seek elsewhere; where paths are
and none but the purity of purpose charts.

Debar yourself – the cliff is but a foot away,
from addlepated and pie-eyed fools.
Though they bloviate like dead
lining the Eastern sandy carpets,
their words inform not. Their pleasure is laughter;
uproarious as their derision, and

Erase doodled hooplas – we know
your face
and your heart too. Preach to yourself!
Strife never ends, but there’s always a reason to live,
Sometimes you’ll see them in the
naked, battling a monster too big to win.
Pitiable souls, cover their nakedness!

Temper your anger with droplets of peace,
Know that beneath the dewy leaves of grass
or atop perennial leafy monsters –
there is life
that search and tease and desert not their peace.
Nor are the burrows and channels of wayfaring earthlings immune to tremours of a waking Mother.

Seeds of pain tended bear fruits.
Remember – they are now flat those mounds that once burdened
the sojourners. Memories fade too.
Just tread on and whisper – it’s not yet!
He, who walks on the right path, walks on,
He who sows, must when the rain
blesses, reap!

© Richie Maccs


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