Death & Time (Perfect)

 

Death and Time

 

Time is perfect.

When they say it is like a wheel, time

Spinning always – traveling… at our heels.

Yet, a wheel can break, or stop and reverse.

I believe time is more like a Lava Floe,

Always moving forward, no moving back, perverse,

Extinguishing all that is in its path…

Dead landscapes of, and for, our memories

In photographs captured

The past stoned from God’s unforgiving stare,

Our reveries in clouds or amber…

 

Death is perfect,

Although untidy in leaving such misery

To those who have experienced it’s life of joys and breath,

It knows nothing

And owns no loyalty or wealth

but to thereafter

Go… it knows when to quit and removes all doubt

The things we question and know, left

For us to only admit—that death is stealthy, quick,

Or even like a cancer

Seen for what it is. Just accept the ebb of life

Even in that hospital bed, death is perfect to life’s

blessed days

We seem to always resist,

War is only a devil’s risen fist

 

Marching for us to follow him

To where He sits

Taking a  s**t… Death is the price of this,

Our paradise of wishes resting…

 

Do not be afraid of Death or his shadows in your mind

Be afraid of the un-lived life

Because it is kin to time…

Like God’s love for us—perfect.