Planted a cane for old age when it comes,
it will have grown and be cut,
its seeds started another life,
and I --- I will be walking as I leaned
against what was once sown.
Spring has come, and youth has fled
what is there but a joyous smile
all things come and go, this life
is but a veil of the worlds beyond
which turns and flips and lo'
there we are in the final moment
returning to the earthen womb.
Delicate carvings will be made into it,
that my last steps be it left
as beautifull and intricate
as the poetry i've loved --- oh I loved
every sentence, letter, dot.
Ah, let the rain wash it way, let it
be a whisper in the wind
a wave hittin' the beaches of (=)
a spirit walks through it
while the body is buried in the soil
becoming a vessel for the next.
But even that --- will be let go then
as seeds into others minds
will it have blown to grow,
but nature is crooked, cracked it is
what it needs to be instead.
I was but a traveller in the betweens
peeking around the corners
seing what happens next and before
but never what was in front of me
and now I lay me upon a field
watching the black matter above
the ruby pink stars in her eyes.
Blessed be youth and whom blew
into my mind as fertile
did it grow to then plant
a cane for old age before it comes :
foresight is to be prepared. |