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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=425407" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Finite Terms - 0987</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Fate's soft tick flicks safely by<br>when fête holds sway old Time must fly<br>&quot;and not a cloud obscures the sky&quot;<br>why worry, pleasure now deny? <br>For joys tomorrow soul soars high.<br>True, some are smitten, springs run dry, <br>yet few heed inner warning cry. <br>to mist dimiss, wave Time goodbye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fate may be written, it may lie, <br>behind the veil is passing sigh, <br>more is assumed in store so why<br>seek answers which no gold can buy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For, if there's more, hope cannot die, <br>if nothing, then why worry, high<br>and low in turn their fate defy, <br>then wave forgot sink twixt sea, sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life's transience, quite underrated, <br>too rarely is appreciated<br>as if the spirits, once elated, <br>could keep their thrust unmitigated.<br>What lies beyond the tombstone dated<br>has never been elucidated, <br>though many have prevaricated<br>redemption offer unabated.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet dances led, with lead unweighted, <br>quickstep through life, Death unawaited.<br>Why worry if the dice are weighted<br>with finite term anticipated? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Time speeds up and hell-for-leather<br>is pressured onwards, storm tossed feather.<br>how drear each day to wonder whether<br>tomorrow's game we'll play together! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ignored too often altogether<br>are ice-burst pipes in balmy weather, <br>or sacrificial goat on tether, <br>when life's free run on hill, vale, heather.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dim is victim's prescience<br>despite disaster's imminence, <br>secure perception complements<br>self-satisfaction's arguments.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Men draw their sense of permanence<br>from self-supporting evidence<br>behind life's surface comforts whence<br>much is drawn, save diffidence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life's patterns in advance may churn<br>a warning aura we discern<br>through experience, concern, <br>here cause, effect, respect must earn<br>before anxieties return<br>to haunt, to taunt, or bridges burn.<br>Life's patterns in advance who turn<br>to true advantage, all peace yearn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unwise who'll sapless, saphead, spurn<br>the hints that candles one can't burn<br>at both ends long. Yet each must learn<br>alone wheels turn. Urn soon we earn.<br>How much of man's self-confidence<br>is self-sustaining self-defence, <br>a mechanism fear prevents<br>although at prudence expense. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The coin cards of coincidence, <br>that noise to others represents, <br>turn to advantage, making sense<br>of elements which signs dispense<br>which seed the sentiment events<br>may be controlled as 'whither' 'whence'<br>seem linked by dream intelligence<br>that lasts although we're hurried hence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When cloud free shines the morning star<br>dawn's rose grows gold, presumes too far, <br>as if no shadow near or far<br>could compromise success, could jar, <br>could ever dowse life's vital fire, <br>as if, once launched, the poet's lyre<br>could chant forever and inspire, <br>nor bore nor jaw resentful ire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Man's pride still heeds the siren call<br>til morn when free flight turns free fall.<br>that day one lesson learns, that small<br>sweet seems to gleam when night threats all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then narrow the circumference<br>of independence seems, intense<br>the pressure, the predicaments, <br>when arguments can't influence, <br>invalidate or overturn, <br>decisions others would confirm, <br>when former freedoms won't return<br>to light horizons dim and tern.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those who rely on providence<br>too soon may find at their expense<br>that everlasting affluence<br>rhymes rarely with experience.<br>There is no 'Ave' no 'Marie', <br>no Eden for eternity.<br>Perjured he who'd guarantee<br>an endless hour in houri spree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is no golden throne and grand<br>when falls life's last coarse grain of sand<br>[the spectre of reign's written hand<br>of course reins in things out of hand].<br>There's no white rabbit, magic hat, <br>no second innings where the bat<br>defies Time's ball. When that is that! <br>dreams of karmic streams fall flat.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Fate's hand, tricked and trumped, turns black<br>dark Present weighs, no turning back<br>to glories past. When cares attack<br>fair opportunities all lack.<br>Reflect! Each given day completed<br>is stay of execution greeted<br>before the final judgement meted<br>when hope for fair appeal's defeated.<br>Reflect! What future radiance shines<br>For anyone beyond life's lines? <br>Enjoy today! The Present signs<br>itself, as Cause Effect aligns.   </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(16 Febuary 2002)</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Jonathan+Robin">Jonathan Robin</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=425407" data-title="In Finite Terms - 0987 de Jonathan Robin" data-description="When Fate's soft tick flicks safely by
when fête holds sway old Time must fly
&quot;and not a cloud obscures the sky&quot;
why worry, pleasure now deny? 
For joys tomorrow soul soars high.
True, some are smitten, springs run dry, 
yet few heed in..."></div>
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