Song of Myself

by Maxwell Princeton Beal, Feb 2009

The earth whispers to those who will listen
I hear its call every morning
I hear it rise with the sun, with the same resplendent arrival.
Unlike the sun, it does not set, it will not falter.

When the night shines forth it stands like the moon among the stars,
calling out to anyone who will listen

I live my life by my interpretation, to which the message is open.
As if God is speaking through the frivolity of nature
As if we are to be as the free spirits therin contained.
This is how I live, as free as the trees, the waters of the river:
powerful, flowing, carefree, peaceful.

We humans feel as nature cannot, we choose our emotions
We become buckled down by anger and sadness
Our lives, time wasted on feelings of rage and depression,
fitting the puzzle set forth by the mass.

Yet the earth still hums to the zombified,
Yet they shuffle on, listening not to their souls, but to the material
The tangible, their prison; their feelings, the nail in the coffin
the coffin made for the death of the individual.

My life is not one of the herd.
My life is one of the pack, to which I hope to be an example
A beacon of one who has listened to the buzz of the earth,
The cry of my heart to suffer not the life of the lamb
But to become the alpha in the life of the wolf.

My mind is made up, I hold steadfast in my convictions
No man can change me
I am not a shell, nor a piece of clay
My soul is free and filled with the happiness of self satisfaction.

I will not be molded into the sculpture,
My goal is happiness and joy, constantly.
for the life of sadness is the life of waste.

I step back and peruse the great earth
I see its trees, its mountains,
I hear its call, I hear my soul sing it every day.

No man can change it, it is my own, I rule over it.
The song stands as a lighthouse
It guides me from the danger and dispenses me
into the vast sea of my soul
upon which I shall sail forever.