Ah, the Wonders of Things

Ah, the wonders of things, things like flowers.
Sometimes I never care for the wind or the heat,
yet I never fail to stop in awe of the passing hours.
They come so silently, but anything can happen in that time.
An earthquake, a government coup, supernova, nuclear war.
And also, nothing at all could happen save the drinking of port wine.

When I hear the sounds of Dawn, it is the jump in my heart that spurs my mind.
Alas! The setting of the Sun is another spur to my thought.
The duality of man is revealed by the nights that twinkle and the days that shine.
And as children are conceived, bones discovered, philosophies wrought,
I understand that the Eye only sees skin deep.
But the mind sees through-and-through.
This, my friend, is a wonderful thought.

Aside from random wanderings and selected dinings,
the world in which a wolf resides is rather tranquil.
It takes little effort as it treks through the pine seedlings,
it relies on no medications, no tylenol, no nyquil.
If I am alive, am I not entitled to live as other things live?
It appears that as my mind goes hither and thither
the state of society cannot decide if wants to take, or to give.
Society must decide soon, lest it shrivel and wither.
I drank the nectar of the gods, and it was thus revealed
that it needless to take, and priceless to forgive.

Have you ever noticed the patterns to discussion and conversation?
The little signs that we take note of unconsciously, unknowingly?
The ways we pull a smile, crack a laugh, raise a finger in suspicion
can let the other know your intent, your deceivingly
simple idiosyncrasies that make you yourself.
It takes much more than a brain to think,
much more than a hand to kill oneself,
much more than courage to step over the brink.
Tell me, are you ready for something as profound as the universe?
The voortrekkers of tomorrow are made tonight as you contemplate the self.
Are you prepared to leap among the worlds above,
to learn what it means, as people, to love?