eager bridge
I ride with the tides,
A nomad of life,
A philosopher of love,
The poet of the wise.
For I see no animal,
So hard and cruel,
As thee say;
I see no danger,
So great, or from
the hell at bay.
My God is mine,
And thine is the other,
I may call him different,
But he is our father;
For he is and not,
He will be and was.
I do begrudge,
I do, too, sadden,
But I do accept,
Be it my grave,
flower-laden.
And I do love,
Once or twice,
For a moment or life,
Timely or more;
And I do doubt,
This world of the blind,
Who leave brevity and peace,
I ask them,
to blindness, abhor.
And I may not,
Be wise or sage,
But I do convey,
Their words. With age,
I, too, learn,
The fruits of the world,
The bible of life,
The mystics of love,
The Vedas of peace,
The Torah of Self,
The Quran of His.
And since I may not,
Be wise or sage,
I learn or leave,
or love or not
the words of the wise,
And as I do,
Shall I, again,
merely,
Ride with the Tides.
normal ether
exotic blade
mild ravine