#99: The Last Word In Tomorrow Is "Ow"! (the Future)

Take Your Time, And Try To Read
Your Tea Leaves That Have Gone To Seed . . .
Or Maybe You Would Rather Heed
A Tarot Dealer's Voice.
Your Goals, Your Goofs, And Yes, Your Greed . . .
Are Just Some Of The Weights That Lead
To All The Tonnage You Will Need
To Find The Strength To Hoist.
You Might Laugh And Then Succeed.
You Might Cry And Often Bleed.
The Point Is, Only What's Decreed
Will Give You Any Choice.

So, we sat there in the Carriage, and . . .
we looked among the cards,
trying to pick the one that might
be good, in our regards.

Then finally, with frustration, Jo
grabbed up a closer one.
A monosyllabic, single word
that looked somewhat like "Sun."

We both recall that moment well.
The image that it brought
upon our minds was more the times
which times gone by had wrought.

Had we been riding dimensionally,
without a guarding rail
to keep us on a straighter path,
we might have pierced the veil . . .

and slid into some other world . . .
some other universe,
where lessons came with greater pain,
or didn't come, what's worse.

But being that our path was set
within a certain frame,
we safely bounced around a bit
by known rules of the game.

I almost had a dreamy sense
that we would meet ourselves,
in library stacks and reference rows,
with nothing on the shelves.

Then we saw what looked to be
a giant burial ground . . .
where decaying plants and dying trees,
and animals lay around.

And then we felt the summer sun
heat up like Rio Beach.
And when we looked we saw the sky
stretch out beyond Earth's reach.

The sun filled up the afternoon,
and things began to melt.
We saw a wisp of smoke as moons
were tucked into Sol's belt.

"What's going on around here, Bo?"
Jo sounded pretty scared.
"It ain't for us," I told my friend,
and feeling quite prepared . . .

"I am a closet scientist, Jo . . .
that much you know is true,
and the feel of all this gassing state,
just ain't for me and you."

I knew, based on my Astro books,
that what we saw was not
meant either for our time, or us,
although it was real hot.

"We're looking at the future now . . .
and yes, it's very strange,
but not a future we're gonna feel . . .
this calls for cosmic change.

The universe now looks to make
its destiny well known,
but billions of years after you and I
have turned back into ground."

"So, all this scariness and threat
might just be a clever
way to keep us mindful that
we won't live forever?

And, hey, who says that we might not?
I mean, we made it through
some pretty weird adventures here.
Who says the rules aren't new?"

"They might be new." A rumbling roar
came crashing on our heads . . .
and we knew the Voice was back to help
the weavers find their threads.

"Well?" Jo-Mima tapped his foot . . .
a mock impatient mood.
"What's the future hold for us?
If it be understood?"

"You're closer than you think, again,
to learning what you ought
about the prize of Future, which
your past already bought.

But, then again, you fail to see
the Future isn't set.
It isn't things you're doomed to meet,
but things that might be met.

But like so many lessons that
you've learned on Level 2,
you ought to grasp the irony of
the State of Future too.

You see, it's not some war between
determined and free-willed.
The Future isn't ransomed off,
rationed or distilled.

You get your time and get your choice,
and further, get your chance.
The Future will be yours to waltz
as you will try to dance.

On the other hand, the Future won't
be turned this way or that.
It isn't there for you to say
you'll have it thin or fat.

The only way you have to will
some portion of its birth,
is taking every chance you can
of learning while on Earth.

By knowing what he must become,
a man, like anything,
has better recognition of
what Future's time can bring."

"You mean," Jo interrupted then,
trying to summarize,
"there's certain stuff that's meant to be,
and stuff that's a surprise."

"Yes, that isn't too far off,"
the Voice was pretty kind.
"But it's more than just a balance of
what you can make and find.

The point is clear, you cannot make
a single thing take place
unless you know what can't be done,
except, of course, with Grace.

In other words, the lesson here,
is not life's take and give,
but change will not be made without
some rules that you must live."

The Voice was gone. The Buggy slept,
and we just stood there 'til
Jo-Mima said a funny thing
and broke the Buggy's spell.

He was saying that he didn't see
the way the Buggy runs,
since nothing seemed to keep it from
some rampant stalls and guns.

And while he talked about the car,
expressing his concern
for that machine's whole lack of laws,
we heard the motor turn.

It wasn't that we knew a word,
or learned a lesson, true,
but it made me think that no game can
be won without its rules . . .

and not that Future is a game
that we might lose or win,
but since we want to play it well,
we need to understand . . .

the molding of a future takes
the guts to carve a day,
but chisels, knives and hammers won't
do much without the clay.