“Last Day”

  

c. 2026 Rod Ice

All rights reserved

(9-26)

 

 

Last day of the season, already past

A return to vacancy, too long ignored

If I struggle to recall my manner and gait

I might view that result as kind of reward

Out of necessity, I look far away

While others are busy, testing limits of truth

I stay at the wheel, navigating from need

And find myself there, discovering clues

Oddly, these challenges made me strong

Temptations failed, I refused their allure

In the final hour stumbling, but still intact

As a sinner, unwashed, yet mercifully pure

This illusion was convenient, a trick of the light

A blessing bequeathed by a master of words

A trinket of gold, polished slowly to a sheen

I accepted this gift that was quite undeserved

It brought a sensation of having been clean

When I knew too well that my soul was stained

I pondered the mirror for a reflection of glass

And the essence of life was all that remained

Last day of the season, cold winds soon to come

I cannot turn aside this inevitable shift

The changes are charted in celestial circles

Unknown to the authors of a holy manuscript

It is easy to hear, and concur with the wise

That strategy has been a method to learn

Yet with the arrival of a new age in effect

It is certain and just that the tides may turn

No hand raised in anger will stall the substitution

Of old habits for new, and a crack of the whip

Horses run wild when the range is wide open

A metaphor like a blunderbuss, carried at the hip

Skies grow cloudy, and patience wears thin

As the centuries amass in a record of time

That tale is tempestuous and told to inform

Those seeking a sacrifice to calm restless minds

Penitence is given, as an offering for good

But does not erase, the deeds that were done

Those marvelous mistakes still linger with guilt

To edify believers who look to the sun

What I intended, when moving the chalk

Was a greater act of giving, than some could conceive

As I stepped off the edge of reason and right

My descent into darkness was a surprise to receive

Down in the depths of a foolhardy whim

Set aside from the protection of a loving embrace

I looked at the shield, and saw only a curse

A trickle of consequence, ordinary and commonplace

A stone under my heel, nagging and hard

Each footfall is forceful, as I teeter and whine

My balance surrendered to stay true to the beat

Of a millennial cadence, marching in line

Oaths shouted in unison, both loud and crisp

Like a crackle of muskets, raised to the blue

This level of defiance has lasted for years

Independence expressed, revived and renewed

That twinkle of trust, has been my north star

A guide of full chapters, written in longhand

I give praise to those who went forward at first

And feel thankful to inherit the coming of man

This beast rules the daylight, a bold sire to be seen

Until the horizon goes black at its end

When conquest and crusades cease to inspire

And a silence of regret will put minds on the mend

No tears will be shed, no tightening of throats

Not a moment to tarry, while recounting events

I’ll stand at the altar, and inhale the aromas

From sacraments of wine and burning incense