--
Twas the week before New Year, when all through my tale
Were teachers and tellers and privilege for sale;
My jobs they were hung in these months this past year,
In hopes that ridiculous might disappear;
--
Much effort was wrestled to fill up my head,
With visions and missions and doctrine to spread;
My job at the college, I cheered the parade,
Of students not learning but making the grade,
--
In banking I learned that the people don't matter,
The money is made in the Wealth-Power clatter,
As substitute teacher I flew like a flash
To open young minds for no heed and scant cash.
--
The gloom on the jest of my new-fallen woe
Oppression, injustice to save status quo,
Then what has my wandering search thus achieved,
But a miniature pay, for my dreams ill-conceived.
--
With a greedy old driver whose fists cling cash tight,
I don’t stand a chance to do Good and do Right,
More rapid than eagles my thoughts change direction,
I’ll sing and I’ll dance after years of reflection;
--
Now, Hard Work! now, Listening! now, Walking and Reading!
On, Writing! on Gusto! on, Cooking and Feeding!
To thus stop all regret! To thus stop seeking glory!
I’ll write a new chapter! I’ll pen a new story!
--
As deceived by the pretense of past by and by,
When I’ve met with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to this ethos I bounded and flew,
With a head full of truth, believing anew.
--
So with greed unthinking and the old ones in charge
They demand on our paths we grab cash and live large
We are all pushed ahead and cannot turn around,
But I can expend effort, my nose to the ground.
--
I can dress up my path with my strength and my skill,
And perhaps add some Good with no fluff and no frill;
And a quiet defiance I may fling about
In hopes that those listening will question and doubt.
--
But to change our direction? To start a new start?
…All I can do is to change my own heart.
…All I can do is to know my own mind.
…All I can do is some Right and some Kind.
--
For decades my purpose was held tight in my teeth,
All it did was encircle my head like a wreath;
All this time to save face I pretended to know,
Where I'd been, where I was, and then where I would go.
--
My purpose is not and it never has been,
A limitless choice of what, why, where, or when;
Though I fancied to think that I had that control,
Tis the ‘How’ that is really the heart of my soul;
--
So I'll speak fewer words and work harder at work,
No pretense, no privilege, I'll spurn shrouded murk,
I know on my path, though it is not my own,
I can learn, I can grow, I can know some unknown;
--
With power as structure and wealth as foundation
For Kind and then Good there's no justification.
With People as structure and Kind as foundation,
For power and wealth there's no justification.
--
So I sprang to the ground with my nose to my path,
And I'll work to control my despair and my wrath.
And despite the old driver proclaiming ahead,
That it's his path I trod, I've still nothing to dread.
Keep working to Good, keep working to Right,
"Happy New Year to all, and to all a good-night.””
--
