The perfect life, a goal for most
Deep down and close to bone,
Illusionary on this plane
Where ego sits the throne.
Envisioning the mind's desire
Fed fat with T.V. ads,
Has led us down the garden path,
Subverting truth with fads.
We have no "want" until we see
The next bright shiny thing,
Inured against the cost involved,
'Til real life feels the sting.
Once long ago, to my old mind,
A time of pastoral bliss,
My wants were few, save play and sun.
What brought me to this place?
From party line to private cell,
I've watched the march of time,
The speed of passing speeding up.
Feels almost like a crime.
We can't roll back those days of yore,
Back there to golden haze.
The bad we hide from our own minds
Purged in a pyre's blaze.
My seeds are grown with seeds their own,
Will they look back to now,
And wonder at the glow long lost
And wish for now somehow?
Richard Higley
6-08-22