NEW BEGINNINGS

The marble forest where death is the landlord

And marvelous lives are reduced

To basic data engraved.

Husband, son, daughter, wife . . . .

As if that was the essence of their existence.

Obituaries condensing the joys,

Pains, suffering, dedication all

Into two columns, maximum four inches.

 

Behind every door is a great novel.

Eyelids close to conceal

The greatest dramas known to man.

Tears have told more tales

Than all the inks ever made.

And hiding behind conscience and guilt

Are sagas too bold to find a place

Among the limits of mere words.

 

We assign ourselves into

A collective entity

Assuming that we are no different

When there is nothing quite alike.

We homogenize our lives

Believing our chapters to be empty

And our history too vague

And all the while we are heroes and legends.

 

We shall succumb to clocks and calendars

And rotations and orbits will go on forever

Each will return to the nothing

That is the true substance of everything.

And we will take our songs unheard

Our unwritten books and muted poems

Our hearts will cease yet filled with love

And someone will speak of new beginnings.

Reviews

[Frieda P]

We are the unsung heroes, each of us has a purpose here, unfortunately, some are not realized until after the fact...deep and profound David, not your usual love song here, much food for thought, outstanding read.

[DrD]

Hi Frieda, I left the light on for you and glad you came by. Thanks for your kind words.

[Frieda P]

Thanks David, now where's your manners, what no cocktails ? My pleasure always doc.