In the precincts of the mind,
In the fortress I call mine,
If Birds were Man’s Mentor
Would we a better breed be
The cradle of friendship
Is too delicate for words
For all my proclamations of belief,
Which in intent and conviction are true,
Endless, fruitless, journeys
That we oft embark upon,
In the precincts of the mind,
In the fortress I call mine,
O Demise, thou art a friend true
When I feel lost and dark blue
The capriciousness of destiny
at play I see in every day
Is my Time really mine
Or, is there a paradox there,
Light up the wick of Conscience,
And the waiting lamp within,
Does too much joy a sadness bring
Must there be little bits of everything,
Rivers flow but they tell us no more
Where they come from , where they go,
Since we don’t know why we are here
Let’s do what the the Heaven we like,
Impatience they say, now holds sway
Impatience will bring forth gains,
You see, I C B M’s, as the much-touted
When life’s no more than each breath we take,
Than the days and nights that we call the past,
Materialism’s at its Zenith Now
But, Money can’t buy God nor ever will,
It’s not about Perfection
But, all about Connection,
The look in your eyes is no surprise,
The fear I see is meant to be
I think I knew who lived here once
And, I think, I knew him well,