Woulds’t this mercurial stage shake our faith?
Turning all whom we love to ash and dust,
Ready to be blown, blown away on casual breeze.
Ravaged human heart and sweet sacred soul,
How can we imagine joyful dreams?
If life is thus.
What mischievous and pitiable acts and scenes,
How can we love?
If bitter taste is all it leaves.
Had we read the script in advance,
Would we have made our bold entrance?
Alternating cries and smiles, radiating naive hope.
This turning wheel of blood and guts,
It spins, grinds and turns and turns,
Whilst memories of loved ones past haunt our waking dream.
Yet, at the heart of our sensuous storms,
Lie wisdom and compassion no grief can break,
Through death, we find our truest faith.
© David R. Durham, All Rights Reserved.
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