April 16, 2020: Vitality in the Ebb and Flow of Thought

Vitality in the Ebb and Flow of Thought

I’m seeking to reach a new synergy.

I want to make the Garden to grow,

But I’m appalled by how my energy

Seems so much to ebb and to flow;

How I forget the things that I know.

My mind is swaying in the winds of the world,

Pervasive, mysterious - that world keeps me humble!

I recall my ideals:  Will their promise unfurl?

Whether jet or thunder, I hear a rumble.

Like waves, my own thoughts sway and tumble.

They start off subtle, like a gentle breeze

That wafts a profusion of scents.

I hear them rustle the leaves of the trees,

And I’m not sure about what is meant.

Are they of seas, or the firmament?

So I seek to confirm my sense of connection

To the life I must live, and the Spirit,

Without knowing the reason, I change direction,

And I hardly seem to get near it.

It has music, and I so want to hear it!

And then, I’ll be seized by an inspiration

That swirls like a sudden gust:

A life-changing vision, for consideration –

Is it an impulse that I can trust

Or only a moment of bluster?

So where does it come from, and where does it go:

Our creative force and vitality?

Can we ever be sure how the winds will blow,

To support or affront our humanity;

To heighten and threaten our sanity?

It enables me to set my own sails,

And tack wherever I choose.

My resolve might falter, but the urge that prevails

Is the one I’ve got to use,

Even when there’s much to lose!

Just as winds also might carry the rain,

And dissipate the pollen,

And catch into a windmill’s vanes,

Or set the surf a’ rollin’

Or raise up a kite that was fallin’ . . .,

They may also carry a thunderstorm,

Or commence a change in the season.

It may stir up a fire.  It may flatten the corn.

Though balance is always the reason,

At that point, it isn’t just teasin’!

We seek to maintain our composure,

While striving to do what we will,

Awed when Life makes Its disclosure;

In sorrow at what falls, unfulfilled,

And yearning when the wind is still.

Will we ever end our inner resentment?

Will our balance be restored?

Will we ever find our contentment -

Beyond ideas of what we can afford -

In the wind from the wings of the Lord?

Will we ever attain the grace to accept

Our lot, though we seek many things,

And while we don’t know the steps to be truly adept

We draw vision from poets and kings,

And our souls are flapping their wings!