Past The Last December


Inheritance squandered and strewn, appearing to discard his lessons of life,
He became a wandering fool, starting over again and again,
The destruction left in his wake, seemed to leave him nothing but torment and strife,
But lessons learned along the way, secretly were stashed and kept by him,

Now with greatest potential, finally he commits to redemption,
Believing it essential, to share the knowledge of what he has learned,
Our hapless fool now sets out, to design a most worthy commission,
Which would finally allow, him to teach these lessons he has discerned,

But now he knows he has gone, long past his last December,
He’s seen far beyond, what any man should ever see,
Now he knows much more, than he cares to remember,
For this life-long tour, defined who he has come to be,

He is a transient soul, never wary or vigilant,
Yet ever watchful he grows… in the knowledge of his quest,
But now is history, and the future is eminent,
Life’s still a mystery, and he didn’t try his best,

Where are his straws to grasp, and firm ground to stand upon,
Should he be called to task, for that which he should or shouldn’t have done,
Where is the ambition, he should have had all along,
Just what was his mission, and would he have learned a different song,

Answers can be all too easily found, once you have past your last December,
But how can a sage’s logic be sound, as all of life’s lessons slowly fade away,
And will he actually care, once there is much less to remember,
As he has less and less to share… ignorance is bliss and this is where he will stay.

So where does a December go, should you forget Spring, Summer and Fall,
The stark cold winds begin to blow, hope is all but gone and prayers are hard,
Might grace be found and faith rewarded, once there is nothing you can recall,
Life’s passions no longer recorded, life’s last cruel and hard lesson plays its card,

By keeping all doors open, he appeared the accidental sage,
Holding the keys to wisdom, but the door opened a touch too late,
For all he can remember, these lessons far too precious to trade,
Now past his last December, sadly we watch his redemption fade…


Poetic License Suspended - by My Gull Wheels On

A string of poetic tales, about my life, my love and, my Lord...
Observations in scales, of mortal plight, once we chance, accord...
Imagination pales, and yet just might, share a glance, of more...
Propping powerful sails, from my short life, happenstance, galore!

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- My Gull Wheels On
Michael Wilson

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