The most difficult aspect of Decision
is Error. Whether it is better to take a
Decision at the risk of Error, or to sit
on the horns of a dilemma, remaining
firmly and implacably unresolved,
balanced delicately upon the broad
rail of the intellectual fence - is
the most elementary Decision worth
pondering.

The second difficult aspect of Decision
therefore is Time. For how long can one
maintain this precarious - if safe – state
of thoughtful equilibrium?

As the world races by, from this philosophical
roost, one may divert one's attentions to wonder
Has there ever been a decision made
which might have served mankind better
had it been considered more interminably?

Whether one can conclude on this question
or not (and how can one without delving
more deeply into the whole question
now under consideration) is of little consequence
but we should note the time value of thinking carefully
into all aspects of the question and
wonder at the awesome responsibility
one undertakes in coming decisively
to a conclusion.

For surely Time is the most finite element of
existence and one ought to be certain that it
is being consumed in a most strictly worthwhile way.

Now, in Certainty, one comes upon another
great obstacle to the course of this inquiry.
For Certainty implies that alternatives exist and
these imply that Decisions must be made,
as we have already observed - this is no light matter.


© Bog O’Mullet 1975

And lo, morning’s stillness falls all about
Where heavy silence’s full of darkness out
And all our slumbers thickly pile deep upon
Dreamers dreaming on soft dreaming songs

While waiting, field and fallow, worm and beast
In holy quiet of night’s dewy bosom moistly rest
For gentle Nature’s orb turns slowly ever round
And all hold and wait,
Dreamers ....
          ... Breathless ...
                             ... Ssshhh!

                                         .... N’ere a sound


© Bog O’Mullet 2010

Litigus:    Hail Maiden, Golden fair, Beauty praised,  Most blessed of all.

Sophi:     Litigus, my trouble's deep, squirms within my soul. Too hard to keep.

Litigus:    My Dear, the soul's a dread. Better lift thy thoughts and keep my stead.

Sophi:     Ah Hah, My Brother, my heart's too real, my nature's soft, thy mind can't feel.

Litigus:    What's this? This break? This daughter's puzzle? Thy feelings that my MIND can't make?

Sophi:    Thy care is kind, my ingenious friend, though my reason's furtive, thou canst not find.

Litigus:    Sophi, A legal mind is what it takes! A knack of pure and clever reason lightens any back.

Sophi:     Alas my friend, you cannot know how much there is you do not know. Except to know that knowing ain't the only way to fix my fate. For its feelings are the glues of thought, that hold the hinges, paint the tinges, identify the subtle shades and set the meaning from that knowing thinks that thought is made.

Litigus:    Now its not, Dear Sophi, sense your making.  And thus my leave I should pr’aps be taking.
For just I fear, tis to clash we're coming near, and its not sought on this I'd wish you fought.
For all the world its now well established, that facts are facts and mind's the place where Reason able tacks and trades the issues hard and measurable. Aye, its the way that things are done. 

Yet crisis closed and still folk come.

For aye aye Dear Sophi, for its true its done,
And here's the mystery, I just can't plumb, ...
For all the problems that we solve, its true that things still dissolve.
And yes its true, I have to say ... for all my searching, I've yet to find the fix that over time is going to stick.

Sophi: Ah Huh, My Brother. So Life's a bitch.
Then Walk with me a while.......        And feel the itch.

 
© Bog O’Mullet 2010

Beneath the city's burning lights,
Beneath the covers snug and thick,
Eyes tightly shut without their sight,
Furled inwards, dreaming, streaming minutes tick,

Whose ghostly forms traverse the silent sleeping dreaming night?

© Bog O’Mullet 2010

Miracles are not found where we usually look for things. They are not found in supermarkets, or fashion shops or new car shops. They are not found in schools, or colleges or great universities. They are not found in churches or libraries or meeting halls or hospitals. They are not found at home, not under the bed nor in the shed out the back.

Miracles are not found like that.

Nor are they found under rainbows, or under cloudbursts. They are not found beneath green hills. They are not found in ancient forests or in mysterious mists that sweep in from the ocean, on unseen breezes. They are not found even in gardens where fairies live.

I'll tell you where miracles are.

To find a miracle you must first go down to the bottom of a deep, dark, hole of despair. If you wait patiently there, your miracle will soon appear. Because THAT'S where miracles are.

 © Bog O’Mullet 2010