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Season of Wither

by Chris Sorrenti

Look at him how he slumbers
While all around seeds popping
Artistry’s craft of cycled ages very much alive
Whither and when does he travel again?
Medals and trophies calling to him
From the branches of his soul

And of those still to come?
There are altars always at the ready
When the ageless one must be appeased
Too many bells and whistles in the soft hardware
A perilous thing

The Titanic dubbed unsinkable
The original TV Superman George Reeves
Suicided or murdered
The more recent version winding up paralyzed
When tossed from his horse
Hip Hop star Aaliyah dies in a plane crash
Shortly after completing Queen of the Damned

But look at him how he sleeps
While all around the trees sprouting new leaves
Splendid examples of eclectic botany
Singing chorus waves of their branches
In symbiosis with the wind
Sooner or later to blow too hard or not at all

And while he slumbers before the altar
You might accuse him of resting on old foliage
His own new leaves and seeds to be no more?
Ah but he’s seen this deciduous hibernation
So many seasons of wither before knowing

The stasis is not to be tampered with or ridiculed
Nor does it come close to implying permanent death
Consider it a defense mechanism of the debugging variety
To ensure continuation of the species

The only other certainty sooner or later
Those splendid examples of eclectic botany too
Will face that deep sleep
Willingly succumb to later awaken to
A whole new world of artistic seeds and leaves

© 2004
Revised © 2017

190 hits as of November 2018


Posted on 11/14/2017
Copyright © 2018 Chris Sorrenti

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