u/Eggplatypus

Man was made to till the soil

To plant the seed

And reap its spoil

To scratch into the clay

And count each day

To boil water into steam

And turn his machine

To look towards the stars with need

And go further than he dreamed

when the nights were long and cold
when you were young and others old
when from the dark grey winter skies
the flakes began their dancing flight

to coat the world anew
to lie untouched by all but you
in boots and winter's heavy clothes
you'd run outside; a smile arose

and in the winter's cold embrace
you felt warmth in those darkened days

tell me then - child long gone
when the flakes descend again this year
why won't your joy be here

I thought i knew the world
why everything unfurled

I thought that most did not
their heads filled with rot

and then by happy accident
I fell in love with the arts again
and through their mystery
a simple truth revealed to me
that between all the simile and metaphor
in all of music's sounds to explore
there could be found more than anything
the Beauty beyond reasoning
the simple matter at the poodle's core

being human, knowing you know not everything

so I rejoice in the poet's words, the actor's voice,
the artist's brush and the musician's pluck of string
simply pleased to enjoy their happening