Dealing with materialism

Of these things my heart doth crave,

some to which I am a slave

Which is worth carrying from life to grave?

Of these things to which I strive,

others upon which I thrive

which is worthy of credit for why I am alive?

Of these things upon my heart,

and those for which my rise will start

which of them defines a role in which I will eternally take part?

My feet walk endless miles,

through various troubles and Satan's wiles

What entries will remain in my life's recorded files?

As I calculate the costs

of all my spirit has lost

when my child suffered unkind fate, my eyes a teary gloss

Is it just a thing, a vaporous gas

that in a time so soon shall pass?

Care not for tomorrow - only eternal things will last.

Among these things I count the rainbow;

its hue, its span, its magnificent glow.

Though I must needs cross torrent rains with tears I'll never show.

I continue on, I carry these things. Which I need who can know?

Wealth, health, love and laughter,

all manner of things which I chase after.

Which draw and hold my averted gaze from truth and will of my life's crafter.

Suppose I change my simple things,

avoiding those which come with strings.

or other milestones which I surpassed exceeding costs of wedding rings.

I now break an uncommitted word,

never put to text such things unheard.

Yet there rises in me a thing now stirred

despite a path both stony and blurred.

I search out a "Thee"

which resides in me

who calls beyond these things "Be Free!"

And long to know a saviors rest, I approach it now on bended knee.

by Thelonius D. Chestang