In this matter
Make your heart your queen
And follow her as faithfully
And bravely as you are able,
Just as swelling fruit
Hurries towards its own sweetness,
Shine whilst you can,
Without fear,
For nothing is as inevitable
As it seems here.
No, not even the fissures
Of loss and decay
We are oft led to expect
In this temporal world.
For whilst we fuss and fudge
The lines we are given,
Above, below and all around us,
Lingers the energy of countless others
Who already know for sure
That, just as it was long, long ago,
When they first found themselves
Enraptured,
So it is for them, again and again…
And now with only a dark empty hollow,
A feeble space of earth left in between.
Such is true joy’s absolute certainty,
Its slow lit fuse that burns holes
In the shabby shroud of death forever.