Ruminations of a Working Man, Pt. VIII: What Sense is There

Moment by moment

You next chapter is in progress

And as much as you won’t like to hear this

The words are scrolling past you

With every tick of the clock’s second hand

With ev’ry unfurling of rose pedals

Should you meet a wizard

It would be well worth the second to make a note

Should you go to battle

You won’t be the only perspective being written

Should you stare out at sea with deep longing

It will stare back at you and tell its own tale

And should you waste away in a seat in a coffee shop

The passers-by may or may not notice

It matters not

From wherever you are

You may play whichever role you choose

Should you waste away in a seat in a coffee shop

Tell the tale well, and with detail, that others before and after

Might also long for your seat, your perspective, your transient company

Should you stare out at sea

Take notice of it staring back at you

Do its whimsy and lore justice, and do not fear

How the salty air might decay all you hold dear, and with haste

But should you decay, do so gracefully and make even the very passiveness enticing

Should you go to battle

Fight valiantly like those before

And then moreso, fight with raging sword

And ravenous bow, and precise leaden shot, aimed with care and bloodlust

Should you meet a wizard

Simply rest, and invite him to impart

Some grain of wisdom or secret of his trickery

He will be giddy to reveal all he is to you, especially if

He is a lonely sojourner, passing only to take note of the all-curious you

But ne’er ask for him to tell your tale

For, as far as you know, you are here

To tell of him, and no other way ’round

He did not create you, but you, him

And now tell me, what sense is there

In casting a vicarious spell at the open air

Without the cataclysmic repercussions that would be

Better yet, tell me what sense is there

In picking a rose bud without offering its full account

When you simply might have watched it bloom

Conjure