They say there exists a fabric,
of cosmic space and time,
Threads of reason woven throughout,
but edges frayed from lack of rhyme.
Each thread is but a rung,
on a ladder one must climb,
Up you slowly go,
amazed at what you find,
but puzzled as to why a ladder,
lets you plumb the depths of mind.
Leave your fear and petty emotions,
on a lower rung behind,
learn now how to be,
more loving, wise and kind.
On the dotted line you'd see,
my name there,
hastily signed,
joining ranks,
one of many
somehow saved from being blind.
Some reject this vision,
they thoughtlessly decline,
what would set them free,
too busy gnawing at their bind.
Without vision they forget
that chaos was designed.
Nothing ever left to chance,
no matter what we find.
Lace tight your boots, go hiking,
through the forest of your mind,
seek out the tree of knowledge,
clear away the root and vine.
Once there you will see,
how a light shines from inside.
And only then,
may your life,
be worthy of your pride.
Wax your board,
go surfing,
play with the turning tide.
Chaos all around us,
can be one hell of a ride!
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