As the snowflake falls and disappears,

So do endeavours of our years;

Temples embellished with riches and dyes

Are temporal sights before our eyes.


Cloaks, pomp and ceremony to mesmerise

Those of the world in human guise;

Are just a sham of man’s mortal need

To fuel crucibles of power and greed.


Pseudo grandeur contained in the clubs of men,

Word and sign beyond our normal ken;

Exclusion secured in chant and song,

Where the uninitiated do not belong.


The God of Creation, is he impressed,

By the flowing robes of those thus dressed?

Glint of precious stone and embroidered gold,

Sheen of eastern silk in every fold.


Does incantation through the Holy Smoke

Reduce the burden of sin’s yoke?

Such rhetoric and folly are surely grim,

When all you need to do, is follow Him.


Wisdom must be ours in short supply,

Perhaps gifted to us when we die;

Or is it just a spice within the race,

So that ordained order stays in place?


Ponder these mindful matters that I raise,

Pacing life’s passage through the maze,

Of control and position contrived by men;

That seeks approval by your ‘Amen!’


Monty Alexander 23.12.03

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