The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Life Inevitable

Sitting on my porch while counting tiny glow bugs
As they twinkle in an enchanted illuminated dance
Dazzling as they are, I grasp this unavoidable life
While I inhale my days not so purely out of chance

This quirky and vast universe smiles daily upon me
Throwing me surprises to each new party-day of life
Butterflies, June bugs and even moonlight kisses
Fantastic as they are, inevitably in joy and strife

Scale of existence stabilizes and then tips its weights
Just as the perishing crops for farmers hardest work
From the life of a newborn colt in a rising morning
To the mother receiving quintuplets from the stork

Never-ending is the cycle of this extraordinary life
In the rejuvenating droplet of the dews final drop
So precise yet unpredictable and beautifully perfect
Even if rotten were the fruits of the farmers crop

Certainly untamed are the events of the life ahead
As we hunger, lust, achieve and cultivate as host
Manifesting our providence in this cosmic journey
And with absolute vulnerability, we achieve the most

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