[ Drunken Poem For Hire...from Tortola ]

As if a thought
Or a breath
Were worth the time,
Is not this moment sublime?
Are we as ever just divine?
But hidden, in the shadow of doubt.
Are we not, as ever, free
To be or not?
Should we flee this place of confrontation?
Or grasp like angels in doubt, like faith?
Why-why are we asked For a reason, when vision is sublime.
And sight is such a scornful thing
And yet will echo in our minds
As dream, better as vision, best yet...
As living,as loving, as friends.

This moment is only now; yet,
Forever..so thank-you, and not
For the powers that be, but for the strength that could not.

From here- where...?
As ever, all we need is strength.
Not the kind that breaks stone
The kind that can form a crystal.
And if, only if we were to awake,
To fully awaken
Would our love be shaken by anything?
What is doubt?
Are we not- re-confirmed each breath
Are we not enroute, as ever to nowhere?
The divine escapes us Because we pursue the temporal.
Freedom does not arrive fully formed,
It realizes itself in surrender or better...
In retreat. We cannot escape.
Refuge and strength define my longing.
Strength is justified by being, by continuing.
Fantasy passes.
You ask for my thoughts
Have no doubt- they might be evil
Or holy-or more likely rare
At least rarely shared.
Opportunity does not knock
At this lonely door
It rings and sounds and, I
As ever, swoon-
Chance is no gamble
Nor a gambol in the wood
Rather a token of blessing
And silent joy, in sentiment
Let us cement this sacred truth
In un-holy living.
We are so young.
Death is so near, yet so far away.
Now is forever
My goals are unclear.
My vision is clouded
My truth nuclear.
Silence and sound
Music and surf
Iron and fire
And volcanoes.
Oysters and wine and bread
And hope.
Where can we go From Here?

- Poem written by John Smith

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