Are We the Living.

This is beginning of a multitude of problems.
This is the end of finding resolutions.

Perhaps.
But the way of things is the way things have always been.
For this is the result of how things got to be.
And of the way we were meant to be,
the choice is already complete.

No, but the end is never circular;
The beginning never straight.
And the road is a sphere we travel in,
never a line we walk across.

Change is inevitable - Change is life.
The world lives and the world changes.
Life lives or it is left behind.

Yet we often only regret ourselves--
Seeking stagnation. Suffocation.
Overwhelment of the mosquitos of our own sufferings.

Yes. We often invite the silence, the stillness:
A placid lake where nothing stirs;
A deadness seeping into our presents,
in order to simply just go nowhere,
on into a deepening greyness.

Out of all of nature,
We are the greyest-
The creatures who fear life.
Those that sink from exterminiation,
to do nothing in its stead.

Strange--
that we should be the immortals.


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After a long hiatus, it would appear that poesy has sprung upon me.