All Our Winding Ways

All Our Winding Ways

                                                                                                Light the Light ~ Philip Brent Harris


What are the ways
We navigate life?
Paths we follow;
What we choose,
Life chooses for us.
Locked in
Sterile cubicles.
No matter
How, how much
We strive
To create,
Make them ours.

Locked in
To desks,
To dos and don’ts,
Our duties.
Trapped in cells,
Apps, smart phones,
Toys and  gadgets,
Budgets, burdens,
Balls and chains.
Can we ever
Escape, wing away?
How many
Ever even try?

Or the oligarchs,
Hierophants, monarchs,
Theocrats, technocrats,
Wealthy, untouchable,
Believing so.
Holding court
In and from
Their thrones,
Plush leather chairs,
100th floor,
Million-dollar views.
So high they
Cannot recognize
Moving bugs
So far below,
As humans.
Not only
To be
But also
Embraced, protected.

Holding space
Between wage-slaves,
Their masters,
In the belief
They control
Above and below.
Holding all
The strings and sticks,
Unseen puppeteers
Marionettes and Muppets.
Blinded by
Misperceived anonymity,
Uncertain certainty

They will be
Pulled up short,
A short, sharp shock.
Pulled down,
Beneath feet,
Poorly shod,
Shoes, boots,
Designer knockoffs,
Worn leather,
Broken heels.
Those who climb,
Reaching for those
Who control all,
The world entire,
Without participation.
Children playing
With their toys:
Soldiers, ships,
Planes, rockets,
Guns, grenades, germs,
Missiles, mayhem,
Money and power.
Viral victory mere illusion,
When we are
Called home.

People who wander,
Seemingly lost,
Homeless, forsaken,
Women, men,
Our children.
Mad prophets
Of mad profits,
Fisher kings,
Cat ladies,
Seers and oracles.
For the living,
For the dead.
Lost by accident,
By choice,
To remove masks
Worn by all,
Yet not acknowledged.
At greatest need,
Aided when
No help
Is required.

I believe
We are All
This and more.
Bard or beggar,
Laborer or lost,
King or fool,
Each and all,
Wear their face,
Begin and end
The same place.
Bawling babes,
Young or aged,
Hale or ailing,
All inhale
One last breath,
Feel our final
None better,
None worse.
We act,
Well or whether
We survive
Are not questions,
Only choices,,
Paths taken
As we wend
And walk
All our winding ways.


Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength, Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment


Please, leave a comment and let me know what you think.

See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:

Brent Harris Fine Art

Philip Brent Digital Art

Vida Voices


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