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Robert Lindner
The Track and the Storms
"I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert… Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
And on this pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
Ozymandais by Percy Bysshe Shelley
We try to find a track
Through life. Then we keep trying to get back
On it, when we are struck
By some storms of bad luck.
But sometimes, we get stuck,
And can’t get back on track because a lack
Of care caused the storms to
Push us off our track, and we could not do
What we wanted to. Hey,
“That’s life.” That’s what they say,
When things don’t go their way,
And storms appear somewhere they must go through
To reach the goals that they
Imagined for themselves when yesterday
Was free of storms and of
Clouds that appeared above
Them with winds that would shove
Them off their tracks. And that’s when they will say,
“That’s life.” Or something more
Forceful than that with an epithet or
Two that I can’t repeat.
Since that would be defeat,
And I’d might lose my seat
On the train of thoughts, before I restore
The track I’m trying to
Get back to. I was there till storm winds blew
Me off my track and on
This board, where I’m a pawn
And all meaning seemed gone
From existence. But I know I knew who
I was. So I looked for
Myself, my purpose, a track which was more
Than just the pleasure of
Living life and of love.
And gave my life a shove
Back onto the track I was on before.
Then, in spite of storms, I
Rode the rails and stayed on the track that my
Life pointed to and found,
When the train came around
At last, it’s mournful sound
Was like a trumpet calling from the sky.
But the last station was
Not the end of the line for me because
My track changed onto
Some rails, both old and new
That I could ride and do
What my old age wanted, which was to pause
And stay on that track I’d
Ride till I can get to the other side.
And I don’t have to pack
Because I’m on nice track.
And I’m not looking back
At old choices, like why did I decide
To make some choice and take
A wrong turn that led me to some mistake.
It’s too late and does not
Matter, because I’ve got
My track and wasn’t caught
In the storms, because I found I could make
Another choice, which set
Me back on a good track, so I can let
Bygones be bygones and
Go to that “antique land”
That’s in the desert sand
Where Percy Bysshe Shelly’s traveler met
The half sunk visage and
The two vast, trunk-less legs of stone that stand
Guarding the pedestal
Where Pharaoh’s image fell
There where we all will dwell
An “antique land” there in the desert sand
Beyond the storms. A land
Where prophets walked and the Pharaoh’s raised hand
Was a power that should
Be the law. But he could
Not stop the plagues that would
Come. His raised hand and sneer of cold command
Did not stop the storms impact
And the Pharaoh become an artifact
An Ozymandias,
For my track to digress
On. And avoid the mess
With ancient madness that’s here to distract
Me from the history
That predicts that storms will come and may be
Hard to bear. But I’m where
I am and can prepare
I’m lucky I am there.
My ride does not go to infinity,
But I knew that when I
Got on the track and then learned how to try
To battle with storms and
I’ll travel till I stand
There in the antique land
Of Ozymandias and souls that fly.
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