The grove outside of the gates

We stand outside
of the gates
vision blurred
after following
the counsel of fools
and money changers…
those
don’t who
honor their brethren,
more inclined to…
extending a backhand,
instead of the right hand
of fellowship –

as we seem
to be blind
to fact –
that this place
ain’t our home –
indutiably, we
all will be
called to
this grove…
of the betrothed
a final place
of resting…
where the truest measure
is spoken,
in silence.

Dutybound to leave
the Earth
in better place,
before we pass go,
esoterically so,
unless you are
predisposed to evil.

Borrowed time
as we pay it
foward as
to do otherwise…
is cowardly.

Published by Shun P. Writes

Author, Genealogist, Writer, Poet, Podcast Host, possessor of 2 cents, Blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that: "People need to get off of their rump and do something". All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way. View all posts by Shun P. Writes