Let’s pretend to only make believe
That life as we have it, is not what it
Should be; is all there is; is what we
Make it; is not a bowl of anything.
Our once upon a time is now - the
Minutes and hours of each day; the
Days and years we have lived
Tomorrow is not a given; getting back
To our heavenly roots is the only way
To imagine the eternity of the Soul.
In the lands of the Fibbidlygibbits we
Have the seen and the unseen - the
Dwellers and the explorers - the doers
And the un-doers - the human natures
Of the most high and the most lowdown
Somewhere between arrival (birth) and
Death (departure) , we encounter the sad
Fibbidlygibbits - we’re tried by them
But if we’re not very careful, we can
Also become one.
In the meantime, in between the states
Of Mind, Being and Grace, the dwellers
And the explorers must learn not to fib
Not to bid too much for so little, not to
Hang too much on the lives of others, or
Our own - on the gibbets of life
It’s by far better to be a believer than a
Pretender - best to imagine and believe
With a quiet or stated faith; to listen to
Your heart and carefully dissect what
They say or block it out all together.
Once upon a time, there was failure and
Success, ignorance and learning, reading,
Writing - writing, reading and thought.
2003
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem