These are actions, but they are not actions…
You know your course, move on’t.
Why wallow so openly in such a morass pit as this?
Empires are to be taken,
Rights are to be writ,
Yet I swim these shallow waters thinking they are seas.
Make oneself the captain of one’s own life:
Sail these unchartered realms of misery;
Become the sum of all who might have been;
Take responsibility for the temper of the sea!
Whether it be a conjurer, Prospero,
Or Hades shifting the planks on which the sea holds,
Or God himself who slew his only son in spite of his own creation…
Let them who hold such great esteem
Not be responsible for these shifting tides which cause our misery,
But we who crash against them.
Like the rock itself,
Let Peter climb from this morass of selfish idolatry
To place his church upon the rocks –
Let no man, wind, sea or deity destroy that which he made.
These but be wild and whirling words, Peter.
You denied yourself thrice.
Give me an action that seeks more clarity that the word itself -
That one’s intent should follow its course,
That one may set afloat upon a raft that is unsteady,
That one may ask more of what one may learn of such a journey
Than one may lose:
If that be a fools errand that let me remain the fool,
For such an errand takes less time with more profit
Than ten thousand men who proclaim
That they know what is in the deepest ocean
Even before they drown.
Oh, but how a man that cries false
Will in time call it true
If it is for his profit;
Is it not so?
Such is the tether and truth to a man’s mettle:
Who can but withstand the temptations of hypocrisy and madness
Given the opportune moment to fall from the perch -
Gravity and man are in constant conflict.
Be not as a twig or a leaf, that can fall with a simple gust;
But as a root that will spore many a seed no matter the weather:
Time beckons both the feature and the result.
Be not of either, for contrary to belief,
One may set a pillar against death finer than marble:
To attempt that which cannot be known.
And if such a deed or act ends in tyranny, sorrow or mirth?
Then let it be so:
One cannot act without harm in good or evil;
The attempt to good is worthy enough beyond any man’s pail.