Turns Fifty
by MrDaMan
Virgil R. Hall II (Randy)

Time is a determined little bastard that doesn’t age a second.
Constantly moving its effects can’t be denied. It has no perspective
but insists that we bear witness to the space it provides. Fifty times
have I revolved around the Sun. A blink this expanse of mine.

Age is a relative of conscience awareness assuming the reality of
pleasure and pain. Learning to grasp the light of the day and to
stumble in the dark, eyes wide open adjusting to imagination and
life’s bridges of limitations. Baby steps and lengthening mental strides.

Sustained by mothers milk and chastised by paternal pride,
horizons become questions and crawling paths become curious
roads. Adolescence is burned by the Sun, and weathered by the
seasons, be it the ebullient spring, the hastening fall or the wintered spirit.

Confusion rains and floods desire leaving little breathing room for
acceptance of ones peers. The import of paradigm is the passion for
reason masquerading as confidence. A bluff to stall time as the
realization of perfection is found wanting. Fear becomes authentic.

Security is the fools gold of some and the achievement of utopia by
others. Striven for by friction of mind and greased by labors blood,
the weight of the world is lightened by the gravity of the soul
obsessed with civilization. Roads become highways, paths of distinction.

Peace is the quiet bits between the wars of rage and dissatisfaction.
Smiles are contagious and I hope to catch one everyday.
Questions are answers to the reason of existence.
My wisdom turns 50 today.

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