Here in the black canyon
Of scattered bone
And undeniable death
It is easy to believe
In the certainty
Of it all
We do our best
To bury
And disguise this
Inescapable truth
But the skulls
And broken vertebrae
Speak of a greater peace
A more profound
Acceptance of one's
Fleeting moment
Bold buttercups
Replace darting eyes
While bashful bluebells
Sprout between
Once heaving ribs
No doubt
Brought to life
In the decay
Of this dance
There is nothing to fear
No comments:
Post a Comment