Rubaiyat Of Caution Against Circumspection Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Slight sense in heavy handed strategy
involved in seeking what may, may not be,
throw caution to the winds, sail seven seas,
go, seize the day before eternity.

If life's strife's pre-determined Fate will hang
if not by Boston bombers double bang,
by fire or flood, ten plagues old Egypt knew:
why sleep in dungeon deep and waste taste's tang.

If voice for choice is granted man and mouse,
advance, trust chance, life's dance prepare, let louse
suck strength from others, on self-help depend,
front loading dire foreboding joy must dowse.

Some 'prudence' style as virtue, would prepare
for all and nothing, their fair options scare,
where early bird ahead, well fed, finds flight,
safeguards too strong prove wrong, leave 'bodkin bare'.

Bell rings tomorrow's opportunities
while those of yesteryear are to deep freeze
confined, stamped, signed, and sealed, frieze fled from sight,
embalmed with fly-in-amber memories.

To prove a point, remove all blatant trace
of let or hindrance, chain's weak links replace,
remain aware below the water line
most ice remains to melt in time and place.

Experience is enough, takes rough with smooth,
anticipates, cleans slates, charts ways to move
all artificial dams from chosen road,
relies on furrow more than fallow groove.

To those, stressed out, who count Time's fleeting hours,
To those who zest prefer, spur, self-empower,
advice: who looks won't leap but creeps away
sounds his own tocsin knell before life sours.