Member Poem

I'm awake to a blank slate,
I don’t determine all that's written on it,
Dawn doesn’t give an empty plate,
I create my ambience in its heat.

I try to make my slate blank,
Dawn's imprints are adamant,
Like a willful tyrant,
It's my mechanism’s crank.

I'm chauffeured by dawn,
I walk on its highway,
It's a mileage I'd rather not run,
I'm simply a mortal clay.

I come to the world as a blank slate,
I'm inscribed on walking through dawn's gate,
I become saddled with life’s perplexities,
I push through complexities.

We’re created blank,
We sojourn listening to guiding voices,
We see, learn and make our choices,
Pressing on until the last rank.