I opened the pages this morning and realized:
we cannot pursue anything
permanent, for nothing immortal has
an accessible path to acquisition.
Maybe that is why we find
death so fascinating: the unfathomable
nature of the lifeless; what has shape, has nuance
but no motion; even the stone, a sphere,
Therefore, I do not define myself by what
only by what I’ve forgotten:
the mystery of my once burgeoning self
and the perishing laden upon all forward
I don’t know anything
or I’d have departed this world for stardust
Copyright 2013 by Michael Marsters.
All rights reserved.