The Native Iowan

It is a conundrum, I scratch my head and wonder,

as life’s rich and wonderous pageant sedately strolls past.

The price of oil, the war “over-there”, the drought in the south, the floods in the north,

as life’s rich and wonderous pageant sedately strolls past.

Advances in medicine keep us old too long, famine and death form a band around the globe, the stock markets sing, The rich get richer, the poor get poorer,

as life’s rich and wonderous pageant sedately strolls past.

We rush up and down expensive motorways, seconds from death without a care, angered by a pot-hole, or a slow driver, bumper to bumper, everyone in a hurry,

as life’s rich and wonderous pageant sedately strolls past.

It is a conundrum, the glory and pain, the mistakes and misappropriations.

But it may make sence if viewed with slow smile; one that loves the children and small animals, understands the aged and infirm, can take the time to relax and ponder life’s simple pleasures,

as life’s rich and wonderous pageant sedately strolls past.