Deep Defile
In the deep defile of life
death is the only light
we see beyond the jagged heights
and twist and turns of trails
we follow, having no recourse
to leave the way we came,
or flee above the canyon frame
or shelter from the gales
that buffet us, and blind our way
while in our narrow sight;
exhausted we abandon flight
and let the light prevail.
It comes upon us like the sun
blood red upon the stone
in Petra when we hone
from the defile, and sail
into the dazzling death of life,
a mausoleum dream,
museum trap, a theme
the sun sets on our tale.
LRH
2.15.09
No comments:
Post a Comment