Most poets search for metaphor
when they describe a life that’s passed.
I feel that life must needs much more
when one doth speak of souls so vast.
A meteor that sparks across the sky,
a lightning bolt cracks ‘tween ground and heaven.
Heaven’s thunder blast echoes in reply,
none match thine spirit’s roar, ah, they deafen.
Perhaps, then shall we talk of waters crashing down?
Endless waves that smash upon ocean’s beaten sand?
Rivers flowing smoothly, they twist unto the Sound?
Alpen streams tear downhill, the obstacles be damned?
Yet, metaphors don’t grasp the meaning of the truest soul.
They fail mis’rably, for nature, is palpable as rock.
Instead, shall we speak truth, to what is summed up as the whole,
What one might learn from them, if one took side-by-side, a walk.
What might they say? I like flowers, they soothe my soul.
Yet, does one compare as to flower crawling bug?
That bird, that bird right there, it soars in shining gold.
But what is flight ,whence balanced ‘gainst my children’s hugs?
I smell winter’s thaw, March is on the wing.
And that? ’Tis honeysuckle’s come to bloom.
Do you smell that? It must be lilac’s spring.
No attar doth so sweet as spring’s perfume.
To share a human life one needs
the infinite of life abides.
For to express the sum of deeds;
Brave all and Bare,
the raw core deep, where human essence hides.
In sum, a life well-loved, in words most fair.
Doth heed life’s lesson well, an act most rare.
