Life is Exacting

      Seated by a large oak tree

                 A small, quiet voice did speak to me.

          "I am Reason, that you've  ill bent;

                     And lost in time,  lie weary and spent."

              I turned about, eyes darting fierce

                 Within the trees, the glade to pierce;
                  To find the source of this soft voice,
          So asking if I had had a choice.

               My eyes turned up and to and fro;

                       "Which way" I wonder'd did Reason go?

                      Peeking round the large trunk'd tree;

                      "I am here, sweet lass, but you just don't see!"

                      The voice did taunt and run to hide;

                         My eyes searched high and low and wide;
                       No movement in the glen did spy
                         No Reason found with hopeful eyes.

                     Settling back, head 'pon my knee;

                        Wondering why Reason had quietly left me,

                          "Where were you when needed you I did?

                            "Lost in Analysis, factoring you hid!"

                              Demanding now, I stood to speak

                         "How could you leave me, Frail and weak?
                              A broken Lass,  you see this day,
                        As you , Dear Reason, had run out to play!"
                             "Left me without a moments pause,
                            Or any good facts to help my cause"
                        Not "testing" of this, or "Examining" of that
                     You'd gone somewhere else, Reason left me flat."

                        And sighing so deeply, it caused me to stop

                         and examine the tree from rootball to top.

                           A sparkling globe did twinkle and glow

                         To slowly decend to the soft grassy knoll.

                            Inside of this orb an object did stand

                      The Voice softly said, "Take it into your hand".
                     From the rounded sphere that did shimmer such
                      I plucked the object, cool yet warm to my touch.

                     "Look into the glass" The voice hushed as it said,

                      "See what is detected" loomed loud in my head.

                         Placing the glass up to my eyes I did see

                        Nothing so mystical; but a reflection of me.

                          "What trick is this?" I demanded so loud

                         As if I was Hera 'pon her high Olympic Cloud.
                      "Nothing is detected, save my own face's vision"
                       "Come out right NOW", I made the decision.

                        The laughter did peal from inside the space

                       Of the twinkling mirror that held only my face;

                   Then the laughter subsided as a change of a season.

                        I am my own thoughts....sanity and reason...