terminus homoeosis

With darkness, wrapped up in this place.
In shadows, can make out your face.
Lights dismal grey from sultry sight.

The rise and fall your music brings
of living little, precious things;
here in that greenish, star-punched light.

Vibrations ring from exhaled wind.
Consciousness stirs from deep within,
asks, How this scheme works out alright?

Answers dim against the glow:

"We cannot ever hope to know.
Only sigh, exist, & be content.

This cosmic order spun in place -
we simply hope, then run our race.
Until in life, we are all-spent.

Then in the end, can each prevail.
Against dear death, we do not fail.
But upward, skyward are we sent."

Glory-echoes still our sight;
The light's to us in moments lent
so in the end, we stand erect
as men, as life, as God's select.

-RLL (c) 2005