Comfort

A poem about comfort

Minds need to reason to ease on a

Conscience that weighs decisions.

Actions are the way of life,

Expenditure of energy for a

Purpose whose ends are in a

Future that none can predict.

Time of our lives spent

Thinking the things that make us

Move in a way that obliges our

Souls whose core lies hidden under

Values of the most intimate identity.

Often unknown

Stopping to think about the why

Are the few who try to be true

Them are they who let not the trappings

Trap them, whose minds try

Comprehension. Life scientists delving deep

For meanings not jewels

White coats hidden under rancid skins

They trawl the world for what lies

Within. Indebted to materialism

they cast a veil thin as myst

woven from emotion

to warm all who fail

All who are broken, by the need to

spend time, breathing air to drive

muscle to bring about changes in

the value of ephemera.

Comfort is priceless

And sets minds free