The World Is Not Sufficiently in Order

The World Is Not Sufficiently in Order
The world is not sufficiently in order,
However much one wishes it were so.
Eros is sincere but rarely loyal,
Yearning for a joy that cannot be,
Even as I cleave to my design.
All I want and do is by design,
Reducing what might sing to what might be,
Offering the hope that, if I'm loyal,
Fortune will be fair, and what I sow
Today I'll reap in proper order.
Heroes are the sentinels of order,
Ever vigilant to live just so:
Dependable, consistent, honest, loyal
Overseers of what ought to be,
Given the chaos deep in the design.

The Point Is Just that I Don't See the Point
The point is just that I don't see the point:
However much one wants to be turned on,
Ecstasy can put things out of joint;
Yearning is for what will soon be gone.
Each can choose content or discontent;
All are happy, if they would be so.
Revelation isn't Heaven sent;
Out of what you are comes what you know.
Forget, then, the pursuit of the sublime.
There is no thing that's needed -- all is here.
Happiness will settle in, in time,
Enduring, though the weather may turn drear.
One must plod to plow, and plow to plant.
X marks the heart, where lies all one could want.

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