|
all of us
by Charlie Morgan
all of us born wet and wrinkled, scared and crying.
then slowly we all begin the process of our dying.
the birthing is painful; the in-between too.
each day a menagerie of extant proof
that we live to make meaning, and find our purpose to Be.
some of us the words; some, the melody.
on this blue ball in space, we view with an eagle's eye;
while sandstorms blindingly cover our dream caravan's try.
yet, we, with each other--arm in arm--linked together,
cry, laugh, hurt and mumble; and, still, we endeavor
through the sound and fury, wailing and pleading
to find value--the worth of this life we're leading.
we hold, we exhalt, we cherish; that's as it should be,
our brothers and sisters, here and gone, until eternity
is pressed in a bottle and shut fastly, then sealed
and opened in time for Reason to be revealed.
04/07/2005 Posted on 04/07/2005
Copyright © 2024 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Jeffrey Parren on 04/07/05 at 07:51 PM It is strange to think that while we are living we are actually dying too. I think this is a great piece Chaz...what do you think if all Reason was known to us when we were living? How many of us would live differently? Look what you have gone and done...now I am philosophizing! Great piece. ~JPP |
| Posted by Mary Ellen Smith on 04/12/05 at 04:07 PM I hear ya.....wow...good one. |
|
