The Spirit's Choice

THE SPIRIT'S CHOICE
By
Richard Vance


Tick Tock, Tick Tock
The sound of clocks,
The sound of time,
Flies by without a need to tell the truth,
No book explains the rules,
The way to win
The way to lose
No guide for how we play the game,
No script to follow day-by-day,
It leads us up,
It leads us down,
It leads us out to wobble back and forth,
To seek what formalized religion shows,
Without a holy written pass,
No words forgive us all
The evil deeds we do,
No great rewards or judgments yet,
For selfless acts or thoughts divine,
No sure position up above,
With golden harps or wings or worshiped throne,
Nor sights or scenes of tortured souls below
Suspended, cursed, and strung about
A fiery pit of doom or gloom,
We’re simply left to carry on,
To do the best we can,
A conscience born of what is truly right or wrong,
Eternal rest,
Or need to walk the path of Eden once again.