Those who pass along Life's way
Embedded in a rut
Don't bring their brain cells into play
But die in their own hut.
Routine spells death to those who think
Old habits hold us strong
But if of real life we would drink
We've got to quit the throng.
Many are the hapless souls
Who never see the light.
And eke out life in concrete holes
Without a single fight.
"Why question things?" is all they say,
"My road is clearly traced.
We know what to expect each day."
All want of change suppressed.
How sad to see the drooping eyes
Of human rank and file.
When all things hold their own surprise
And those who feel it, smile.
There's an inner glow in those who've made
This vital mental step.
It means no longer they're afraid
To cast far out their net.
The wonders of this Planet Earth
Cry out to be employed.
And only through this second birth
Can true life be enjoyed!
(Written in 1983)
(c) Poet in the woods 2014