Must or wort brewing
as sort of gospel,
scattered nations
in direction zero
speculate
the aim of all progress,
skeptic we'll leave
the world a better place
as lifetimes reflect in an hour.
A sort of Gospel
and good news,
our wellbeing
leads us to health
ingenuity, wealth
and acceptance.
Realms of debate
over these revolve
around our selfishness
as I ponder sharing
toothbrushes with the dog.
Scattered nations
struggle exchanging
these gospels of prosperity
So often we remain weak
from lack of connection
But if we can talk,
discuss problems,
and exchange value
Life begins to hug back
as we program reality.
Direction zero
takes me soaring
through sunshine and clouds
and through Earth crawling,
while mulling truth and beauty
and pondering cycles of seasons
in signs of time on my journey
through punctuated equilibrium
of evolving sights in deep time.
I don't always speculate
but when I do
I use Parker pens
for the smoothest flow
in writing friends
The aim of all progress
is leaving worlds a better place
whether with a bit of hope
or some gigantic institution
leaving guidance for souls' migration.
The stars are amongst our eyes,
let us leave thriving worlds
in our wake.
Skeptic we'll leave?
We do everything
we've ever put our minds to.
For whether you think you can
or can't, you're right.
And this, but an ancient dream
for dreamers through space and time.
Worlds are better places
when we start caring,
and inspire others
to do the same
in dreams of peace.
Lifetimes reflect in an hour
for pasts unlock future presents.
This is our inertia
hurtling through space
on a mossy rock
riddled with passion.
If time witnesses
good news,
Life is hugging back
through cycles
of flowing
stars amongst our eyes
in ancient dreams
of care
for mossy rock