All that I am
All that I shall ever be
Was gifted by an Intelligent Force
Known to me by many Names.
I choose to believe God is my Creator
A name given through the ages
By far-reaching tribes and Kings.
Through generations our experts
Plan and Experiment with the toys
Of my Creator, my God.
Each generation forms their initials
On the great book of records
With repetition and yearning.
Reaching ever out for the Stars
Seeking a nebulous wisdom
Of the unknown and forbidden.
Some with Generosity and Grace
Some with Furtive Motives and Guile
To suddenly come to History’s Coincidence.
Repeating Righteous Rituals of Fools
Only to find Doubled Knowledge in
Mainframe Madness for Space and Beyond.
Whose flags will be stuck in the aeonian
Mud of Mars and other Galactic outposts
To begin Civilization all Anew.
Deities and Desires freshly grown
Ideas and Mockery of Spoils left
On a Cold and Deserted Mother Earth.
When doth come the final planet?
When doth all of Life not matter?
In the Great Collosus of Death, Perhaps!
Then, again, perhaps I return
In yet another Incarnation to amuse
And Confound my brothers and sisters.
Ah, but that is not so bad, methinks
If love is there as well to greet me
In the Piano Bar of my mind.
Billy Ray Chitwood – September 1, 2019
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