The Storyteller (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)

“For everything there is [a reason]
     [That is, cause] for every [action] under heaven” –
          For birth and death;
               Seedtime and harvest;
                    Killing and healing;
                         Demolition and construction;
                              Grief and laughter;
                                   Mourning and dance.

A [reason] to scatter stones around,
     And gather stones together;
          To embrace and refrain;
               To search and abandon the search;
                    To retain and to throw away;
                         To tear and to mend;
                              To remain silent and to speak up;
                                   To love and to hate;
                                        To make war and to enjoy peace.

The sense of
     Time
          For many folks
              Makes little sense;

But cause-affect
     When pointed out
          Says recompense –

“Two dollars out
     For dollar in
          To some black box”,

Is cause-effect
     Without the time
          Defining walk.

So,
     What’s behind our little “Why’s”?
          What is the cause
                For which we die?

“Who gains?”
     Some ask with cynic’s brow
          Knit tight
               As if all-seeing how.

To me,
     When shifted
          To that way,
               From apprehension
                   Of a day,
                        Or season’s round
                             As if it’s fixed,

Breaks open
     Story –
          Cause-effects –
               The “Why” indeed
                     I can select –
                          From ways we walk
                              And talk each day;

From aspects of
     Our private ways,
          So often hidden
              ’Neath the leaves
                     Of thought – obscured –
                          Hence lists like these –

Why are we born?
     Why do we die?
          Why do we search?
               Why lay things by?
                    Why tear things down?
                          Or build them up?
                               Why fight our wars?
                                    (Why peace is tough).

Each one a story on its own;
When paired, we find a tension-zone
Where men and women of our day
Engage each other and their ways.

To me it speaks of basic tales;
Of yarns spun out, where one regales
One’s friends with foibles shown so clear;
Where causes clash with ones held dear.

For there we learn of human ways;
We comprehend our foolish days,
Which to that point just puzzling are,
So frighten us – for “strange” means “far”.

Effects we see; tomorrow’s cause;
We can’t connect the “is” with “was”;
But when the story’s fully shown,
We comprehend – for “friend” means “home”.

Why do we love to spin our yarns?
Why follow close exotic charms?
To learn the cause of our effects;
Mature in them as God elects.

And so I play my storied part;
Spell out some cause-affect through art;
Where two such things are juxtaposed,
I spin my yarn with links proposed.

I have to make it plausible,
For any cause that’s probable,
Can be built up, and often is,
If we spell out each person’s biz.

That’s what I do – I help folks see,
In hopes that seeing self can be
A basis for some better choice,
Made clear to them through storied voice.

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