You swear by life and its beauty
In ten thousand poems
And breathe the inescapeable moment
Purifying your existence
On this foreign plane.

You consume the fleeting mortality
In the dim half light that is time,
You make love with arrogance in youth
And butterflies in tow,
You recline in your chair
And remember the dry dust of days,
The procession of years on this
Great yin and yang flight.

And death is a sleepwalking dream
With intimate knowledge of your
Deepest desires and wants,
So that one version of you
Might tell the other version
Yet to be
to live life to its fullest
In the emptiness that surrounds all.

And the current on which death rides
Will take us to the door of wombs,
You will see the  Depths and the Heights
And pass the One
Into a flurry of ashes that pass
Like glittery dust,
And to die
Is but a rebirth,
Into the madness once more.