GRAVE SPRING

Where did the night go?

It was such a silent comfort;

And the light has noise

That is so difficult to still;

 

But the world it just keeps moving,

Turning, tilting around its axis,

I must bend

To what is greater than my will.

 

Can I spring to its attention

As the years when I was fertile

Ripe for reasons so replete

With worth and sin?

 

Or must I retreat to journey

In the darkness of my own making

In the caverns and the chasms

Of my soul within?

 

Time will tell;

It too keeps moving;

Ticking forward,

Taking back the life it gave;

 

So I guess it matters little

Light or darkness in the long run

When I am resting

In the silence of my grave.

2014.02.17.0700 ©