Pearls of Wisdom

JONATHAN WYLIE

Wine is curious.
How can it seem so much more than it is?
How can it taste of the sun,
of the perfume of a summer's day,
of the light in lovers eyes?

How can it make lords of lowly men and turn nobles into swine,
bring truth to liars' lips and transform honest vows to utter falsehood?
Such alchemy is beyond mere magic.
It is as real as blood.

Time plays tricks on those who do not see it for what it is.
Lives are trapped, thoughts ensnared, and fate becomes an inescapable circle.
But love is not so constrained.
Rebellion begins in the heart.

Only mankind marks the rhythm of the years with artificial notes.
For the rest,
the calendar of the seasons is enough,
but men go there own way,
as ever.
In the march of time,
some stride out purposefully,
while others dawdle and dream.
Most struggle to make headway,
but for a few,
their birthright is a downhill path;
though the way is easy,
there is no turning back.


Destiny does not provide a map.
We all have to choose our own route through the labyrinth,
with its pitfalls and dead ends.
Who can step aside from fate's arrow?

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