It’s a creators wild whim
To fill us full of thoughts and dreams
Let us wander through a life of never knowing
Where the start is, where the end lands where we’re going
—-/////—-
It was spoken in a near voice
That the wolf would have no choice
But the raising hair would come
And the hunt must hungry drone
—-////—-
In a deft stroke of nature
The cataclysm falls upon the land
Rising birds into the upper atmosphere
Dropping them like rain
—-////—-
We are but pollen on the spring air
Wandering the cyclic sundry
Landing with hopes and intention
Procreating in favor of the mission
—-////—-
I left the halls of mourning
To begin a new loves day
Dropping slowly all I carried
Lest the heavy be what my burdened way