Simpleton’s Tune: a balada

The simple truth? Who claims to know,
except to judge how the wind blows
first from the east, and then the west;
and who’s to claim which way is best?
To spend one’s time defining right,
without the benefit of might,
seems like a fruitless enterprise
best left to fools, not to the wise.
Breathe in and out, then out and in;
let go of lose, let go of win.
And once your head ceases to spin,
wait just a while, then start again.

The straightest fact? Who’s measured it,
except to their own benefit,
in gain or loss to their own side;
to question this, is suicide.
It’s to the victor go the spoils:
religion, history, and oil;
And those who dare stage a revolt
are branded heretics or dolts.
Breathe in and out, then out and in;
let go of lose, let go of win.
The rope is fraying, old and thin;
just wait a while, then start again.

The highest ground? Who’s standing there,
in some great, self-appointed chair
to pass their judgments from on high
and use their post to justify
that some have more, while most have less
and must in the next world redress
what grievances they would repair;
might just as well live on pure air:
breathe in and out, then out and in,
and let the world’s slow tilt and spin
remind you time and time again:
there is no end, only begin.

10 NOV 2010

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