Throttling back now

My plane began

Descending

Steeply

Into

Mom’s

Jewelry box

Gliding over

An alien world

Of glinting metal

And colorful stones

I hit the turbo-thruster

And cleared the far wall

Crystal balls

Fall all around

And shatter as they

Strike the ground

While silently

We march en masse

Through bloody drifts

Of broken glass

How beautiful

The crystal sphere

A perfect orb

So pure and clear

Yet hold a shard

Up to the sun

And rainbows

Shine on everyone

The great white limousine rolled down

The road to Destiny,

And in it sat four revered men

Of great authority.

Religion and Tradition graced

The seat that faced the rear,

While in the back Philosophy

And Science sat so near.

Now when the road became so rough

That forward progress slowed,

Philosophy said, “Gentlemen,

Let’s try another road.”

“I think he’s right,” said Science,

Shuffling papers on his lap,

“I’ve been collecting data

And I’ve made a little map.”

Religion would not hear of it,

“‘Tis blasphemy!” said he,

“For God himself has set us on

“This road to Destiny.”

“Religion’s right,” Tradition chimed,

“It’s been agreed upon.”

And as they argued endlessly,

The limousine rolled on.

And in the end, their driver,

Who was named Necessity,

Would find that he would have to choose

The road to Destiny.

As Winter shed her overcast

The sun began to show

And suddenly a knoll of grass

Appeared amid the snow

The withered blades lay all askew

Like soldiers in defeat

But as the yellow army grew

The snow began retreat

Soon Winter ceded and began

To run down to the shore

And even snowmen turned and ran

For Spring had won the war.

When we surveyed the planet Earth

From deep in outer space,

We found that she was giving birth

To you — the human race,

And when we came down from above

To teach you right from wrong,

And show you of the ways of love

And how to get along,

You said you needed to be free

To learn things on your own,

And so we listened to your plea

And left you all alone.

But then, alas, when we returned,

We found, much to our horror,

That what the human race had learned

Was weaponry and war,

And so we watch you from afar,

And patiently we wait;

Perhaps we’ll wish upon a star

While you decide your fate.

Silently swirling

Whirling

And twirling

A mountain of snow

Softly falls

On our town

There is no escaping

Scraping

And shaping

The mountain of snow

When it’s done

Coming down

But I’ll be debating

Waiting

And hating

The mountain of snow

As I shovel

So long

For there’s no curtailing

Wailing

And bailing

The mountain of snow

When the plow

Comes along

His name was Jack Pine

And he died for our sins,

Still he stands in a line

With his wires and pins.

While other trees ’round

Freely reach for the sky,

He is lashed to the ground

Without roots and bone dry.

There once came a day

When his wires went dead,

For mankind found a way

To use cell phones instead,

Still he stands there in line

As the new age begins;

His name was Jack Pine

And he died for our sins.

Today I’m on

The old people’s bus;

I guess I must be old.

Yesterday I wrecked

Cars for fun,

Indestructible

And bold.

Out the window

The snow falls;

I hope

I don’t.