Category Archives: Life and death

The Moral of the Story Is

Sit in shadow,
Bathed by the light.
Wonder where to go,
Preparing to take flight.
I’ve nothing to take with me,
I’ve nothing to leave behind,
Naked into the world I enter,
And naked I leave it in kind.
I am solemn in the dark,
I’ll live and love what’s best,
Who’s to say what’s what?
Do you know the qualifying test?

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Once-Life


I hold a once-life
It shall remain here sleeping.
Resting in my hand
It gave its breath keeping,
Its heat to give back,
Its heart nevermore beating.
The wings no longer carry
Its small form into the sky
It simply lays here
While I,
I held a once-life and it remains there dreaming.

An Element of Rust

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An element of rust remains
Upon the earth and what it contains.
No matter what rain may come
Still there’s rust when the day is done.
Iron towers crumble, boulders fade before the wind.
A question of death and the wages of sin.
Why should you wonder? Put it from your mind.
Rust to soil, then back to human kind.
Imperfect decay, gives birth to perfect form: us.
In all this there’s at least one word to trust,
Life is life, and death is death,
And from both we must make the best.

From This Grave

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…and from this grave a flower grows
A little part of what’s lost shows
Then one tear from these eyes flow
At the sight of a flower that grows.

Bone Garden

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A garden of bones,
Planted in stone.
Living are the seeds sown,
Decay: germination’s home.
Bones become as the flower blooms,
And blooming into a flower unseen,
Mice are this flowers bees.
This garden of bones is no tomb.

Shadows Follow

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We are followed everyday by shadow,
By the long shadows of our future selves.
Time has no meaning in an endless flow,
Where shadows patiently wait for our tales,
When they will be told in a different light.
How is it we’re constantly in sunset?
In sunset about to pass into night.
Darkness,when we return to sleep so blessed.
All our cold shadows sit and wait and see,
When we arise, where we might float and go.
When life-blood loosens its grip and we’re free.
There’s a secret to the sunset I know:
“One wakes only in the twilight of day.”
Our shadows to us, have oft’ tried to say.

Lioness

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Rest.
She sleeps.
Tired from the day, she’s still and cold.
Tired from the blood she’s carried.
Long life past, now she’s old.
Now far from demons she’s long buried.
No regrets, her own grown strong,
They’ll find a new grave to carry
Her to where she can rest from demons wake,
From the words of death she spake,
From what she carried for so long,
So her own to demons pacts
Would not be sold.
Or so I’m told.
She takes this secret to her grave.
The children know of what she gave,
But not of  sacrifices made.