by Ralph Koschnitzke

Created on: July 20, 2010

I wonder when it comes down to the last second where it ends.
I wonder sometimes, how close to the edge you have been.
Maybe a purer soul would not be as easy to tire?

Don't you wonder why I'm happy walking in this fire?
In prayer we petition to take the pain!
In honesty, it's discovered that, it, hurts.
To that remark is no surprise.
By virtue patience is awarded a prize.

In the mirror at ourselves,
Disconcerting even the most stoic stares,
Understanding comes while nursing maturity,
Verse after verse.
Chapter after chapter.

Away from that edge.
Just to drive ourselves away from distress,
Unlocking simple doors, pen marking paths less traveled,
Getting lost unable to read while searching a map keyed to truth.
Joy drops her clothes to music played by the devil,

While others dream and pray for discernment in a diabolical nightmare.
Some expect entitlement in a world of internal imagination.
To each is owed only what they need.
Certainly insanity is not an exclusive event!
I wonder when even the most patient get pushed over the edge.

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