The gift, the blessing of
Is more than the costume, regalia, or rag.
The promise of so many taught interests,
Often go by, missed by unlearned guests.
If there is a practice of some ancient ritual?
Have we picked up the fanciful?
Origins become lost in a history of lore?
We watch wondering about time or score.
How carefully we try to avoid a rut.
Back again we all go allowing habits to jut.
No matter we reach for freedom's thinking,
Path of least resistance until we are stinking.