Joy

I give to you a poem in eleventy-one words...

More money,

More horsepower,

More square feet,

More education,

More love,

More…

Are we never enough?

Those thorny little epithets flung behind our backs,

Those eye rolling glances cast between those we deem powerful.

They has an effect.

(Only if you let them)

They makes us doubt.

(If you wish)

 [What we half create,

And what perceive.]

Isn’t getting better the point?

To progress!

Which begets progress,

Which begets progress,

Ad infinitum.

Quod Erat Demonstrandum.

{Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s}

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise now to tell?

Progress may bring happiness,

But intent remains the font of joy.

{Give to God what is God’s}