...the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life...

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

S.P. Poem # 109: Full Flow

Created from clay the pot that holds our dinner

Made of vegetables and a little meat heated

On the stove with lines of gas buried and running

To the street to the main that remains in full flow

Supplying to all these houses on our block

And beyond out into worlds of ideas meaning

Someone thought of what to eat and how to cook it

And how to live in a way that is easy as pie

Though one hears complaining by and by

For reasons pertaining to freedom of the will,

Edwards’ essay on which I’m half-way through

In hope of learning something about why I am

The way I am and why everyone else is too

Because I’m curious and concerned and in want

Of a drink and a meal and a little space to think

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