the transition


We treat it as if  it was something negative and unfair
Our deeply ingrained hour glass is natures gift
From the moment of birth our flesh and bone battery slowly drains
One by one our senses flicker like an old light bulb
Acres of stone reminders are in every community
A passing thought before we fall asleep
A written article in the news paper
How and when are the always on the menu
Our feeble attempts to hide from the ghost of inevitability
Trying frantically to choke the life out of mama truth
Ok, alright, I give up! I'm taking the ride!
KindredSpirit's picture

From our birth

I would hope we grow
Before it flickers
And even begins to think about dying.
It is it.
"And mama told me not to come "
Three Dog Night