Thursday, February 10, 2011

They Don’t Call Me the Seeker

“One should not look for Beauty and Unity in a work of art so much as character and variety.” - From Sentimental Education by Flaubert
I was looking for truth and came upon luck
How fortunate that it should present its meaning so clearly
No beating around the bush
Pure happy chance smiled broadly
I gave it a great big hug
Then wondered what all the fuss was about
But so capricious was this infernal luck that it soon left
There I was with egg on my big fat face
Dripping its nasty rotten yolk as I stumbled about life
In search of more meaning
If only I could discern facts from the miasma
Not bloody likely
Got a message loud and clear when I learned of a friend’s death
Like a church bell
There I was creeping through the clouds of wonder
Dazzled by the enormity of that ultimate truth
That damned mortality 
Lord its everywhere
And where am I?
Happy to be thought of at all
Happy even that I stop to give thought to myself
As if I weren’t even worthy of my own consideration
How impotent we can feel in the face of universe’s deception
I need to dig deeper
That’s all
Maybe it is in looking for truth, we find ourselves lucky
I’m not sure, so confused now
Can’t trust in luck 
Its visits are of such indeterminate length
And sometimes its evil twin bad luck comes instead
If it weren’t for either or neither
I’d be stuck again, with my search for truth
Stars above, hell below, voices screaming everywhere
Answers provided in all variety
Maybe I’ll just wait to get lucky instead
That’s it, I’ll take my chances with luck

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