Feverish Ramblings: A Poem

Feverish Ramblings

Fighting a cold, ill and no longer at-ease,
Sick with the flu…perhaps the new dis-ease
Rambling this planet…created by man
No doubt, a ploy to arrest and stop
Our journey to health and ease…O liar
You shall not succeed, I embrace you
Not, but accept with arms open
The (w)holeness that I am; complete and at peace.

Here I am about to begin
A new novel, a story about
When the people around began
To see that there was more
To life then the eye doth see.

How do I write a story such
As this; where to begin…perhaps
With remembrances of bliss
From long ago when mankind did
See, only you and only me
When did the shift in sight begin
When did the darkness of the
“Almighty Dollar” enter in.

Who is the main character, whom
Shall I have tell the story
Of our history, that of man
And when it all began?

Is there no better story teller
Then the Spirit within crying to
Come out, to set us all free
From the dis-ease of self and
Our struggle to be free?

“Yes,” I say, so shall I speak
Of my own journey into this
Bleak world we now live in
Where you and I don’t seem
To matter, when it is only
The things we touch and see
The things that ultimately
Have ownership of you and me.

What a tragedy we’ve written
For what we call life.
The struggle of mankind to exist
Not in harmony or bliss
But possessed by our possessions
As the thieves of our souls we feebly resist!

Insured and secured at a cost
That does not seem to matter,
When it comes to this stuff that
Has taken over and now rules
The very essence of us who lie
To each other and selves,
Oh what fools!

I must depart now and strike
While the pen is hot, or I shall
Soon forget the journey I have
Chosen to seek, to explore and
To write; before I lose vision
And once again have no sight.

© Shammah
12-2009