Through the Looking Glass

written in wings own sui generis style

no capitols no commas no periods no punctuation

part 1 the glass

i sought for you

but could not find

searching in the dark cavernous recesses of my mind

soul exposed nothing hidden your eyes seeing everything everywhere always all the time

so still blinded first by the darkness and then by the light

my thoughts race and then gradually calm is restored

my mind pauses and sighs

i stand at a intersection looking long in each direction

i make my decision move forward not really knowing taking one measured step at a time

there is no one but i am never alone

many paths one way a high way

nothing unclean no devourer passes this way

once a child now a man

i look through a glass darkly soon face to face

wiping away the mist that obscures any trace

startled the face i see not of christ but of me

part 2 the son of…….the sum of…….

down the rabbit hole a journey of inches

in strands of 23 a blue print given

the offspring of generations of imperfect parents

i feel lost i stumble

far removed from my beginnings

knocked down but i am not knocked out

i am all of their accumulated influences thoughts actions words deeds and choices

all contributing to who i am what they were

the genesis for the making of the new mold

i cast no blame there are no excuses i make my own choices

i embrace the good discard the bad

turning i change

i do not neglect the gift that has been given

a second chance the price of redemption

a beautiful mind

and a new name written on stone

known only to the one to whom it is shone

part 3 the price of porridge

in a vision they come from above and into the earth some barely touching the surface their garments virtually unstained others buried only to their ankles while others are up to their necks wallowing in a trough of debasement and vile excrement

a black sheep in a flock of white bent that way from the start bad seed the old folks say all a body can do is hope and pray

a white sheep in a field of black musta switched babes at birth granny muses with a sardonic smile and a touch of mirth

what ever your circumstance your birth into the earth

the fact that you draw breath declares you have worth

so what will you give what is the price for your soul

your birthright and inheritance for the contents of a bowl

it is simply a bowl of porridge a donut and cup of joe

or maybe a free $50 gift card for cigarettes and chips that only provide a temporary fix

don’t sell your soul so cheaply for momentary gain a feeling of safety and protection that will not be sustained

the results irreversible

the conclusion sure

a massive culling is coming

unlike any we have been forced to endure

live a noble life don’t be bullied by the majority or succumb to pressure from family and friends for if you are shot in the arm or shot in the head anyway you look at it you are dead and there are greater things at stake here other than than this mortal life

looking for laughter and children playing

the sounds of the sand and the sea

looking for peace and simple pleasures

your beautiful presence here with me

P.S. I sit here tonight under an azure sky with peaches, pinks, and shades of gray all illumined brilliantly by the sun. This is my place of peace and calm in the midst of a very troubled world. It provides the seeds for my writings. These past two posts were written with simple rhyme and riddles, their meanings sometimes obscure and hard to understand. When I write there is a large amount of revision and editing. I make a great effort to say things in a particular way. The caveat here is what will you do with what I say. Please read these posts with a clean clear open mind with my perception not yours. We’ll sift out the differences later! And always thank you for your comments. They mean so much to me and are a source of genuine incentive, encouragement, and confirmation.

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Alas oh land of whirring wings