MY ‘DIVINE’ MESSENGERS LET ME DO THE THINKING!
THE HUMAN RACE
MY VERY OWN SOCRATES, PLATO, CONFUCIUS, MOSES?
Dear God. Dear Goddess. Oh, Great Spirit who
lives within the conscience of each and every
one of us. I am convinced that the Sacred
Three welcome my inquisitive and perhaps contro-
versial nature. They are my Socrates, Plato
and Confucius rolled into one. Because of them,
I think. I fail. I agonize. I degrade pomposity.
I am forever searching for answers. I live
with guilt. I respect the less fortunate.
I suffer from pride. I trust my wife.
Sometimes I am opposed to her truth.
Yet, she tolerates me. I make
strangers laugh or at least wonder,
“Who is this old guy that just
stuck his foot in his mouth?”
My spiritual icons must get a kick
listening to my prognosis about life as if
I know what the hell I’m talking about.
When I have these one-way conversations
with the Silent Ones. I am in search
of solutions that will help define
the path I am forever breaking.
Although at times I feel inadequate,
confused and indecisive, so what?!
The thoughts I harbor about survival
in this demonic environment bolster my
pseudo-narcissistic tendencies — whether
they are right or wrong. Yet, I am
convinced that humility is my virtue.
Speaking unfettered to my Holy Hearers gives
me an insight that allows me to dissect
my soul. Call it a prayer, a search for
inner-truth, an unforgivable sin, the one
way confession belongs to me alone. For
that kind of gift, I say: Hallelujah!
— Boots LeBaron —