David Lacey

Rookie - 287 Points (2/3/87 / Middlesbrough)

Esplumoir - Poem by David Lacey

Before birth we lay as nothing, alas sweet nothing at all,
We are as the one, dedicated to naught but our Love of unison.

How are our souls ever to learn if we are forever earning
Our dues through celestial favours?
How are our souls ever to grow if all we ever know are the
Tastes of terrestrial flavours?

Through the gift of mortal tenancy we are thrown
Into the chaos that surrounds us throughout the day realm.

How are we ever to remain steady at the helm
If we are never given a vessel within which we may sail?
How are we to succeed in our Endeavour if we are never given
The ability to fail?

How are we ever to learn if we are never given the chance
To earn the respect of fellow earthen dancers?

Do not wish away your time upon this earth but know
That your birth was a blessing, a dressing of the soul.
Know that we can never be anything more than a whole
Complete if we are given no separation from unity.

Within our hearts lay a throne for the queen of appreciation.
She knows her place, she knows her face and she is proud
She proclaims her love aloud for every cloud that graces
Her skyline. She’s doing fine without transcendence for she knows
That one day the soul of the world will embrace her once more.

Her awareness of herself she sees a gift with which she may lift spirit
For it is only when we are taken from our existence eternal and given
The gift of mortality that we realise it is the Gods who envy we,
Those adrift amongst a sea of souls. Some practice non thought
Denying there existence as an illusion, yet are they not confused towards
The fact that it is an appreciation of life that they are lacking.

For we hath been born without good warning of the world that tears
Itself apart outside, yet we are not to hide and wish away the clouds of
Grey, we are to love our existence and know that death is our only assurance.
Each will one day become one with the whole, each will loose sense of their
Soul, so embrace the day whist you may and know the search for truth is the
Most honourable of all, yet no truth is there to be found in hiding away
From the world outside your window blurring. Ground. Center. Earth yourself
And know that even though you may perceive all we hath received as nothing
More than an illusion, you will do naught but confuse yourself in trying to attain
A state of un-being before death, for we hath an eternity to enjoy the void.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 21, 2006

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