The Naked Troubadour

Two Sonnets for Fence-Sitters

Posted on Jan 9, 2019

A strangesome sight has blighted earth’s straight ways.
When I survey the space which stands between
all right and wrong or light and dark these days:
A fence (or wall) as tempter fills the scene.

With Truth on one side, on the other… lies,
you falter on the fence in abject fear.
For Truth’s too bright for you, profound and wise;
to you it seems too righteous, chaste, austere.

But when you turn the other way, the lake
of lies beneath seems something threatening, dark.
Although it draws you in, you’re just awake
enough to have a blessed question mark.

You need to jump the right way off that fence.
Please let me help you find the confidence.

It’s painful for your ass there on that wall;
equivocating like a wobbling gel.
You wait to see what others think, then stall,
and waffle, sitting in your craven cell.

Friend, soon upon that wall there’ll be no space,
as those who want to hedge their bets expands.
You sit there, stubborn, on your fence, in place,
and wallow, passionless, in desert lands.

But here’s the raw epiphany you missed:
That fence (or wall) you’ve made up in your head!
Objectively, they don’t in fact exist.
You’re drowning in the lake of lies instead.

Jump off that “fence” into the truthful deep
(which comes from faith)! Don’t hesitate; just leap!

© Alan Morrison, 2019