Sunday, July 06, 2008

The Quest for the Holy Grail

And when the Shining Knight
did end his term encased
he sought the freedom of new worlds
a life to live unlaced.

Go off and find your own, he knew,
live life long and adventure,
but always mindful of what ye learned
and bring with that to thee greatest venture.

And the happy man said unto Him
that which he would hear:
a lesson will you hold all life
practice, preach, learn, hold dear.

First, of life, he said to Knight
you must seek to preserve,
second, he said, treat it with the respect
and dignity it most deserve.

Of dignity, he said,
listen and have presence
for once its lost it can't return
and that is life and death in essence.

Life, for humans, is a conscious gift, he told
that which is holy and most prime,
the beatitudes of civil rights, it is
a respect for all before its end of time.

For if we do the future will preserve
and protect it as it does the present
and all then will be as well as now
from king to priest to peasant.

And the man got up
and gave the Knight a kiss
his hand, he held, his
head he turned amiss.

The look, the turn, the
happy expression he did see,
though broken, his heart
mend, he knew, it soon would be.

For time would heal all wounds, was told,
though not in ways most would contend:
we learn to live and grieve, of course,
but learn to live, most all, come what futures send.

So ados, he gave, and
waved to Knight a last goodbye
and said Knight he: come whatever most,
please don't stand alone and die.

The Knight walked out a bit bemused
though heroic, he escaped
sad for comrades lost, eschewed
left behind lives he helped shape.

The Knight found his bus and got inside
and hoped ne'er to see again
though wickedly, he knew,
his wicked heart could not contend.

So memories they would be,
neurons linked e'er and present,
come up again he knew he feared they would,
and in those moments, happy, sad, all things his soul torment.

A part of him, they were, he knew
as surely as his fingers, toes,
and wear them tightly, he knew he would
abreast as skins, or furs, or swords or bows

And the bus moved on,
as it did before,
in dreams he had long ago;
these dreams, he would remember, both wore him and let go.

Or was it something else?
That was the question in his mind that again, again, he would repeat;
A prophecy? A lesson? A fear?
Was this to be his greatest feat?

The answer, he knew, was unforeseen,
deep within his slumber land,
and wake, he wouldn't, ever more
as Joshua, Judas, the Knight, or Peter Pan.

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