Tag Archives: 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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To Argue With the Vessel

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A fragile crutch of flesh and bone,
Supports another wounded soul.
Water argues with the vessel
In which it is contained,
Progress made is infinitesimal,
Naught but vanity is gained.
A smile on pained lips and three
Unused wishes at days end may see,
This day again becoming night,
This tired form and I,
Simply wait for morning and new sight.
Where life and death combine.

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.

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.

Cities Crumble

When cities crumble after skies fall down,
A curious sun shines upon ruins.
I stand on oceans edge, dead ground.
One won’t see death here for bright day akin
To a cemetery, dry bones, and sin.
Cities crumble and leave no clouds behind,
No churches, or temples we’ve to hide in.
Nothing I see above that’s silver lined.
One doesn’t see God’s hand, raising up storms,
And torching the land. We mustn’t cry out:
“The gods! The gods!”. We’re to blame. On this shore,
I meet the sand and the waves, still with doubt,
God in His heaven, all’s right with the world.
I look on, as this too becomes unfurled.

Considering Decay

I found a bone
I brought it home
It once walked over dirt and stone,
It held a creatures flesh and skin,
It was partially the vessel the soul had traveled in.
I found a bone, a bone called sin.
I found a bone, the bone was dead.
Though alive in my head,
To me it said:
“What I was, I no longer am,
Though you hold me still I stand,
And one day will become the sea and land.”
I set it down then to display,
How it still stands, in a way,
How it still moves, and runs and plays.
You’ll see this too, if you consider decay.