Eternity and a Day

Across time;

Immemorial, incessant;

I flow, I flourish

Across the backs of keen leaves waving

my solemn whisper pierces through aeons;

caressed by the wings of the spring bird

Hearken to the wind that brings renascence

and the ever-fading wail of yore

Hearken to the faceless man – unshaped, unchanged;

his will is that of fate

For isn’t this life lived for the thousandth time?

For grass still moves the same

An endless spiral of form and dust;

ever-dispersing, ever-amassing

The seed of death, endowed in birth;

and a promise of meaning