Knots

There once was a man, short and quite strong

With a lovely family, he did belong

A loving dear wife, and six pretty kids

A wonderful bunch, and they were all his

They lived in a village, just outside of town

It was pretty, and fruitful, the crops did abound

He worked in the fields, digging out beats

Hard manual labor, stuck on his feet

Thoughtful and caring, though he didn’t have much

He was constantly looking, to leave a nice touch

Picking a flower, or writing a note

His life to his family, he did always devote

All of the family, they did depend

On the man of the house, to bring home the bread

He scrimped and he saved, to provide a little better

If he could buy a truck, work wouldn’t be such a sweater

With the truck now you see, he’d haul into town

The fruit of the village, oh he’d be proud

He’d haul for the farmers all of their goods

Provide more for his family, just like he should

After many years working, just making end meet

Enough was in the bank, his life was complete

He went into town, and picked out his truck

No more back breaking labor, he couldn’t believe his luck

It was more than he expected, for the truck he did pick

Was quite the strong hauler, and it had a trick

If maintained with exactness, with love and with care

It would last for forever, no matter the wear

It was something quite special, not normal you see

To think he’d been this lucky, it filled him with glee

Normal trucks they break down, wear out over time

But the truck he’d been given, was never to decline

So he started hauling, and boy was it good

He’d haul groceries, and dairy, and very much wood

His life was much better, with this here new trade

Less work for more money, he had it made

He loved that dear truck, that gave him new life

Second to none, except to his wife

Constantly checking, making sure all was right

He’d maintain with exactness, for it was his life

He’d been promised it’d last for forever, if he filled the fluids and changed the parts

And as his life devoted, it became his heart of hearts

He never missed a duty, or skipped a chance to clean

It was the best thing in his life, or so it did seem

If only it was over, my story now you see

If only it was happiness, the truck did only bring

This poor dear man, as loving as he was from the start

Was twisted and knotted, and gave away his heart

That special kind of truck, took a special kind of fuel

And if it didn’t get it, it would lose all of it’s cool

But this man didn’t know that, he was totally unaware

So it was neglected, despite all of his care

So I’ll tell you what did happened, and it will break your heart

It breaks me up inside to tell, but here is where I’ll start

I tell you for one reason, or I wouldn’t tell at all

So you may learn a lesson, and frequently recall

It wasn’t in the first year, the second, or the third

It took a full seven, for all this to occur

It started out real slowly, but ever slowly crept

Changing ever slightly, it was hard to percept

But one day finally, the man heard something that seemed wrong

What once was roaring power, no longer seemed that strong

As soon as he realized, that something was a miss

He ached and wailed and cried and moaned and even let out a hiss

What had happened to his dear one? that he had cared for oh, so long

He’d done everything in his power, what did he do that was wrong?

His life now depended, on this here machine

And if it gave up the ghost, oh the pain it would bring

Well of course you know the ending, and it doesn’t end that well

The sorrow I feel for the man, is really hard to quell

The truck it did keep hauling, but slowly slipped away

Despite all the work he’d done, to keep its death at bay

He worked, and loved, and cherished it, did everything he could

But the one thing that it needed, if only he understood

Each day that it grew weaker, it broke his heart the more

Anticipating the great loss, his pain grew very sore

And it grew all the weaker, hauling less and less each day

It spit and spat and sputtered, the heart began to fray

It slowly, slowly crept to a halt, no more life left in its veins

And as it died the man’s heart too, became covered with its stains

Its death a true tragedy, but there’s something all the worse

The state of the man it left, is why I do rehearse

He did do nothing wrong, nothing that he knew

But he was the more the broke, because he felt that he’d been screwed

This was the problem, he’d done nothing wrong you see!

But is that- the real truth? is it really?

He did do something wrong, he just didn’t know

Should we expect the seed to grow, no matter where we sow?

We know this isn’t reason, though we all do see this way

We do nothing wrong, and then life does go astray

How does this happen? Its not our fault you see

And then we do twist up inside, and eyes become blurry

This happy man, the digger, once happy with his state

From all the anguish he felt inside, gave away his fate

He shook his hand at heaven, cursed God and wished to die

Because he felt that he’d been wronged, he kissed his family bye 

You see not only did he lose his heart, he lost it wrongly

He gave away to his truck, that was to serve his family

He got the truck to serve them, and that is why he filled with glee

But over time it changed him, the devotion changed him see

The truck was meant to serve him, but his master it became

So over time this lifeless thing, this man’s life did be claim

Now centered in an object, his life no more his own

The man had given up his will, and thus his death was sown

Now centered in an object, that was on its way to die

This man’s worth, and hope, and happiness, had now come to rely

He’d been told it’d last forever, and so he must be safe

But was then dashed to pieces, when that was not the case

The story would not be over, if it weren’t for this next thing

The blame that he put on his God, damnation it did bring

If he could accept it, acknowledge God’s hand in his life

The death of his heart, would not be quite such the plight

But what made his death complete, his sinking become full

Is the placing of the blame on God, he couldn’t see it was the fuel

He couldn’t see the wrong he’d done, only the hand that he’d been dealt

The only thing now real to him, was the anger that he felt

So when things go wrong in life, don’t get twisted up inside

None of us see clear in life, is what I do confide

Like a glass half darkly, we grope and grasp and strain

So when we turn to anger, we only have ourselves to blame

We may think we know the matter, but I say we surely don’t

We must untie the knots inside, but many surely won’t

We cling to the idea, we never did a wrong

That everything we hope for, will surely us belong

The irony is just that, we are meant to have those things

But we must first untie the knots inside, and the blessings he will bring

How do we untie them, is the question you do seek

Make Him at our center, and be forever meek

Our truck will surely break down, there’s no question that it will

But if He’s at our center, our heart will still be still

We’ll look to heaven thankful, he’s found another knot

He’s healing us, He's guiding us, unclotting all our clots

Untying can be painful, in fact it surely will

Because untying knots inside, is giving up our will

To put him at our center, part of us must die

And every time we do that, that part is sure to cry

And it’s in those moments, remembering will help

Everything we have in life, from him was surely dealt

We are surely nothing, except what of us he's made

Then can we with anger, demand what we are paid?

Sometimes it seems that in our life, we’ve been absolutely wronged

But getting knotted up inside, will only pain prolong

If we can remember, we came from digging beats

There’s no pain, or harm, or suffering, we cannot defeat

He wouldn’t go back to digging, it didn’t seem to him right

He’d done everything in his power, all that was in his sight

If there was a God in heaven, he surely didn’t care

Because if he did, wouldn’t life be fair?

Because this poor man’s heart, was wrenched right out his chest

He know longer could bring himself to serve those who loved him best

To go back to the digging, was too much to accept

He no longer felt responsible, since God owed him the debt



-CDG