From the shaking dirge cries of birth To the desire for ease in the between, Before the elemental breath rattles at death, We are lost in cacophonous sighs of daily life, Choosing to turn away From moments appearing as iridescent sun rays As if God's fingers reached Between the clouds To touch the earth. Yes, we turn away, Notice nothing, Pick up kids, Fix dinner, Do laundry, A trip to Wal-Mart, And to work, The mundane of every day, Yes, it must be done, To hurry toward the waiting, While living holding sand, Until expelling the elemental breath before death.
Tag: Modern Age
Modern and Clean
Let’s play house
Without the home.
It’s all arranged so prettily
No mess, no fuss,
No dusty hairball under the couch
None of the huff and puff
To blow a life down
Just learn to float on the surface
No need to swim in the deep
Keep it all to memes
Or 30-second bleeps
Nothing more needed
With all things clean