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?

Renewal

Across the gap a tempting song.
A pond, a light, a stone.
On the far bank, far beyond,
A vessel long grown cold.
Daylight does nothing to warm.
How can there be a song without a soul?
There is no life within the vacancy.
The void stares back and somehow sings.
Such beautiful things
Set my mind at ease.
I am at waters edge,
and take a step.
Turning to stone, I sink and pledge,
To rise again after my ego-death.

To Argue With the Vessel

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

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.