Life

Black darkness swallows whole my innards –
this life of flowers and bees and persimmon trees –
constantly adorned by bluest sky and puff puff clouds –
with rolling waters so cool and clear –
sighting God’s love far but yet near.

And we, those cast from heaven,
to walk the soil of years’ past shit.
To toil and grasp hands in filth,
to plant a seed of new life born.
And sprouting from this cesspool death,
is God’s beauty beyond the norm.
A green leaf pops up through,
and we attend our Sunday pew –
to give thanks for life come anew –
and sustenance which we can chew.

Oh God, oh God, your plan is clear –
that we be damned year by year –
sentenced to hunger and pain of life,
suffering intolerance and radical strife,
to bring a war – to bring the blood –
to kill a man for words lacking love.

Am I Cain or am I Able?
Living for love or for the sabre?
To which of these do I owe my fate
– being destined to walk upon this earth?
If Cain were sentenced here –
this life of toil and crime –
it would certainly make sense –
But why Dear God did Able come –
What was his offense?

If misery could be given a name,
I would call it Life.
As the only relief that I can find,
is my dearly beloved wife.

Thank you for the most wonderful thing I know.

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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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