There Sits No Crown

There sits no crown on man's lowly head.

The lion with its majesty and force,

The deer more swift, the eagle and the hawk;

Vision, speed and strength once his on earth

Now lost in the evolution of the race.

Yet mans' progression through the fields of mind

Changed not his anger, violence and hate

Who flies above the world in steel cocoons,

Communicates with ease and maps the stars

But cannot overcome rigidity

Of self, expanding not the inner soul.

Impotent to quell his trivial desires.

Unable to unite he then creates

A thousand faiths in essence all the same,

Each believing itself the ultimate word.

The key is lost, the heart's chamber locked.

Seeking not to find what he misplaced

He goes upon the outward road unchanged.

While greed predominates and lust to own,

The greatness lodged within his breast is still,

Awaiting crisis or catastrophe

When he is forced by Nature's means to find

The deeper reason for his place on earth.

Hardly conscious of a higher state,

No longer fearing God as judge and king

Who doles out punishment and promises,

Rewards the good and casts all evil down.

He is deluged with panaceas and advice,

A thousand books proclaim the latest cure

For illness he inflicted on himself,

And every cure reversed within a year.

Although he is the warrior of time,

Magician who can rectify all ills,

He looks without to find a useful guide

While in his heart the Godhead waits and dreams.