Trilogy of the 'Book of Life'

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One
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Binding of the Book

Life has but one spine to bind together the pages of our lives
And if life is a book
Then whoever writes such words sees each passing day as a new experiment in persistence
Who are we to define the love that such a writer shows us?
Maybe we are just the products of His or Her story
Of the infinite wisdom of a startling conclusion we have not the persistence of mind to comprehend

But when life deals fatal blows
The contestations of a happy medium
We may find ourselves questioning the stability of the pages
Where is the binding?
The glue to keep us in line with the destinies that might already be written
Is it in the love of those we hold at night?
Whether close or far away, they resonate a certain tone within us that cries out for attention
Or does it exist in the strength that can only be found in a soul that only we can discover
Or a God we find within and outwardly?

Are we littered with the emotions that the book concludes are correct?
The examinations and rationalizations of our overall intentions
Or can we be enriched by further devotion to our ending
In any event, the eventual conclusion of such a book is far reaching
Even if close in time

So to that end, I find that only truth can prevail in such certain times
Truth of the ending, of the soul, of the inner strength that brings us these wandering meditations
And we'll find that it, although elusive, shall see us to the binding that we wish
As well as create the illustrious ending we always dreamed of

And rest assured, whether it's what you always thought you wanted
It's probably all you'll ever need when you look back again

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Two
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The Writer

Who is the writer of our existence?
And is their intention altruism or selfish fulfillment?
Can we define His or Her existence by the realm of humanity
Or is it to great for anyone person to truly comprehend?

But what if we ourselves are the writer of each others destinies?
What if our responses are the writers of all decisions?
And if our destinies are set only by the love and affection of others?

We pine and we toil
We act unto other the way we wish them to act unto us
And try to change the responses and the actions of those we act upon
Hoping that maybe putting one in favor to you
The world puts you in their favor

Can we, however, really contend that we have changed the destines,
Or rather, the inadequacies, of our existence?
That somehow a slight butterfly effect could truly be the cause of all our woes?

Are we destined to live out the responses of those whom do unto us?
Or can we change those who do unto us with the right amount of prodding?

So we buy into the idea of "no good deed goes unpunished"
And live a life of what we feel is asked of us in a benevolent way
Hoping that it changes the ideas placed before us

But does any good deed truly go unpunished?
Or is any good deed done for a selfish purpose then invalid?

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Three
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The Right

The question becomes clear as we search for the way to change time
It truly becomes a transparent and orderly contention
That is, we live a life of desperation of being
And try to live to find who we are

But are we living so that we feel we have lived a life of being?
And try to do the "right thing" in a thousand different ways
Without considering the real possibility that we are wrong no matter what we actually choose?
That in our life of desperation we cause only pain
That in our desperate quest for self assurance we find self pity and selfishness

We rally behind the causes we think will lead us to the promise land
And twist and turn them beyond recognition
To a point where we aren't sure just who we are or what we believe anymore

Christians,
Allowing themselves to be led from God but the contentions of idle strangers to the being
Scientists,
Led from the truth if for nothing else than the biases of those we believe we respect
And the confused,
Wafting from one side to the other by what little evidence can allow them sleep at night

But even more than this,
Those who fill none of these slots,
Hiding from the truth of being of introspection and self-reflection
Simply to live in a way that allows them enough peace to not truly consider any sides of any equation
Especially if that equation may shake what little handle they have on themselves and their world

All so lost in their own right
And the worst of all never searching for an answer in any real place it may arise

So the question,
As rightly concluded to on so many occasions
Is whether we have the right at all to be the writers of each others lives
Or whether we should be banished to wayside of never truly having an effect on anyone
And never truly pushing time to fruition

Copyright Joseph Burge 2011