On the old oak tree
Sits a mother with her child
Giving her some lessons
carried from generations!
Her voice so hoarse and quiet
like the black night sky,
"Listen well dear!"
The mother sighed
"Silence is the wisest thing,
Its with you when no one else is,
silence itself is an answer,
to all those fools, who roam around!
Keep quiet, and you'll see,
the light in miracles!
The less you speak,
the more you observe,
and the more you observe,
the more wisdom you acquire,
the more you get to know, about the faces around here,
sit on this old oak tree, and observe
how faces, hide faces!'

Fear can cloud the vision of our fate
Divert attention of a state
Is it wrong to live lethargically
waiting for the bell to be rung
later to be hung

If a virus is afoot
how bad can things become
Should you just amble along
or strategise what's wrong
on how to overcome
Can we help ourselves
to be the change
with a climate in dismay

For pessimism is a necessary
self defence mechanism
Can we directly effect
our surroundings with intent
and elevate our kind
Or are we here to observe
learn and bide our time

On Sundays, I drink
more coffee and more whiskey.
Reflections on the previous week
provide for accurate predictions
about the week ahead.
Books and snacks go down easily.
Attaining clear focus
helps the writer observe society
to build the words
that raise spirits
and raze evil.

–Ron Gavalik

Pull back from me to
clear through your clutter
Only guidance can be offered for
the effects we have on ourselves
and others
Observe our actions from above
as a higher state helps to adjust
Step up from who and where you are
to be the change you want to make
Assess, review and conclude
For only we can improve our fate

Peeking through the morning haze
Moon in its a-waning phase
Gazes with ever placid face,
Not devoid of any grace,
To behold, observe and mark
Every flutter, cry and bark,
Every drooping of a flower
Bending under dewy bower,
Every ripple in the lake,
Every plant, the true or fake,
To the beholder doesn’t make
It any difference at all;
The dune, the creek, the waterfall,
So different and yet so strange,
So alike to waning Sage

As my family gather around me
I feel their whispers of insecurity
Thoughts of past events racing through my head.
As I lay here dying on my bed
Drifting in and out of disturbed sleep
I hear the sounds of my wife weep
Telling stories of my life events and past
My childhood memories drifting so fast.
Of happy long summers and never ending winters.
My life breaking up into tiny little splinters
Talks of greed and if I made a will.
The only thoughts are the pockets they can fill
Heated conversation and unsettled voices
I am forgotten about while they make their own choices
Someone shouts out where are his deeds
My thoughts and sounds now coming in short feeds.
My breathing now slow as I drift into eternal sleep
Family still talking of what they will reap
As I awake into a glorified light
Away and at peace from all of the fight
To an eternal life away from corruption and greed
My pain and suffering now finally freed