as i wax older
memories get stronger
ghosts get bolder
their haunting, longer

whispers always been are getting louder
this world seems much less real
the spiritual that much prouder
trying less to conceal

but woe the strength that once was mine
the strings i used, strong as twine,
to attach 'n bind to Supernal Mind
have fled 'n left me crippl'd 'n blind

i knock on a door feeble 'n lame
shivering reed, battered, ashamed,
stutter as i've forgotten his name,
i lean, exhausted, on door-frame

beyond i sense a thousand souls
connected with mine that reached their goals
deeply embarrassed I curl up inside
but now there's nowhere, nowhere to hide

is there anything, anything at all
that'll allow me to stand up proud and tall,
to emigrate to yon Elysian Fields
as body surrenders to dust and yields

his snow white beard filled the room
with angel-like consistency,
a sage of everlasting bloom
of ceaseless work 'n industry

indefatigable humour and wit,
a dryness that refreshed 'n bit,
always himself, running from honour,
could never be he'd be a goner

yet now i see a blanket black
set o'er coffin with hearse
can it be, he'll never come back,
within this life of years

but though his mortal frame is gone,
i see and feel his presence,
he's closer now that he's moved on,
a part of Omnipresence.

'i'm right behind you',
chirped Mrs. Blackbird,
with belly speck'd ecru
her nape feather furred

she stood in the shadow
'neath privet hedge
overlooking a meadow,
grass, buttercup, 'n vetch

he was silent,
head askance
look, intense,
as if in trance

then, waxing violent,
legs in dance,
in thrilling suspense,
his bill a lance

with hell-bent obsession
a drill in progression
making accession
in swift succession

yellow beak struggled
with fat 🐛
quietly snuggled
beneath garden tiller

'twas an uneven fight
for poor little mite
in one swift bite
his day turn'd night

now he dangled,
head now mangled,
chicks wrangling
mouths angling

And from side portal,
Time gave small chortle
o'er combat mortal
of cycle immortal

Said nettle to butterfly, 'welcome back!'
'i remember you when you were black,
bushy and wrinkled, fat and hairy!
hardly a month since last you fed on me!'

'bushy and fat? don't be ridiculous!'
snorted Painted Lady of colouring meticulous,
'but what can one expect of insolence infamous,
just like your hairs, pointy and venomous!'

'don't be so hoity, my young lady',
hummed Urtica dioica, 'I'm not so shady',
'you, on the other hand, have changed your look,
you're like a chameleon or shifty crook!'

'Don't nettle me', said m'lady blushing,
'i'll not be accused of guile or bluffing,
it's you that ought to be of yerself ashamed,
hiding burning-needles in hairs untamed!'

'Each to their own', shrugged the burn-****,
'Don't ask anyone to touch me Harris tweed,
but i'm here for you, to meet your need,
i give you food, I help you breed'.

The butterfly appeared though not to hear,
Engrossed with the nettle's front 'n rear,
Her abdomen bent, spiracles as bow,
She laid her young children, her seed to grow.

'It's not too late, my little young'un,
a little courtesy and manners to learn,
be nice to he who gives you good turn,
'cos it's your eggs i do discern

on underside of my green leaves,
the least you can do is say "how d'you do"',
but butterfly had gone, as succulent beeves
to little brown wren, in beak as he flew.

the competition starts as you're born
its championship's not foresworn,
the gun is fired on very first morn
the finish-line reached as others mourn

on the way you'll find much to nettle
there to prove your grit 'n mettle
if moral compass's in fine fettle
you'll emerge stronger, as quenched metal

if you fall on the way, help is at hand,
that too is innate, divinely planned,
it's human nature, you'll understand,
just keep on, maintain your stand

as best can be, that's all that's required,
try not to look if you're being admired,
do as your soul is heavenly inspired,
until you're tired, all strength retired

then soul ascends with all it's acquired,
the bruises of life, as medals, attired,
and as the spirit is gently expired,
G-d whispers, 'yes, it's this I desired'.