The Purpose
Of the task.
It may appear incongruous
But happens everywhere
The theory is put into practice
But not quite in the square.
Fleeting thoughts distracting
The purpose of the task
Two minds interacting
Questions there to ask.
Living in the moment
Musing on unfulfilled dreams
Is it a false analogy
Or that is how it seems.
Getting down to business
Then leaving work for home
Dream of your loved one waiting
No longer being alone.
Love is not pragmatic
And has no rhyme or reason
And visits uninvited
On any day or season.
The mystery is waiting
To whisper in your ear
Your wishes were gently sated
The future path is clear.
The changing of the seasons
The scudding rain-swept sky
Have spilled our blood from lesions
Until the day we die.
Great plans that melt like embers
Spelled when the fires gone
Forever it remembers
A metamorphosis has undergone.
©
David Rudder
2024
Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.
