As It Is

Each morning of existence
two armies stand assembled
for an outcome that’s decided
before the horns are blown.

A battle fought on sacred ground
favours those with virtue;
our man always has the sunlight
behind him in a showdown.

The names of those warriors
are as lengthy as a sentence;
unfamiliar constructions
await the axe and tumble.

There’s no chance that their quarrel
could be settled round a table
for lessons must be pointed
as a javelin impaling.

Does nothing shock or shatter
your transcendental shell?
The gods wag their fingers
but the sky stands still.



Poetry by Ray Miller
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Written on 2026-01-21 at 10:13

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Ray Miller
Thanks Allen. It's meant to be ironic. Some years ago I tried reading the Bhagavad Gita, gave up after about 30 pages, deciding that it, like The Bible, was pretty much to do with turf wars - our guys are no better or worse than theirs.
2026-01-21


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Thank you for sharing this poem. It was a really interesting read.

I think your are presupposing that Good always triumphs over Evil - with the assertion that the outcome is decided before the battle? And 'our man' (I love that!) always has the sunlight behind him. It is something that would definitely be desirable isn't it.
Blessings, Allen
2026-01-21