To Live
When thoughts can either stand still
Or go scampering like little schoolchildren,
Should we let them have their way
Or hinder them with little threats
Of whatever could possibly go wrong?
Should we stifle their seriousness at play
And preach meaningful sermons
Behind locked doors and windows?
For sure, like this the prankishness will flee
But reason too perhaps will follow in its stead
And leave behind a mask that knows
Only how to keep appearances.
All that now stammers and stumbles
Need not be smothered and smitten
If the spirit is to respire.
If only we would learn to sing, to dance
And play to time…
As for the rest, the knowing ones have known,
To live is to interpret
And we are free to choose, endure,
But scarcely free to will.
