Wire like shoots, strands of green plants live in asphalt cracks, stretching skyward, briefly kissed by
Sun rays, animated; these perishable souls seek a certain way of existing
Before being scalded by the high heat of the afternoon, exposed, then trampled down
By the tread of a passing street truck; gone forever, annihilated; yet men too
Stretch skyward, multiply, like wire like shoots yet with souls that never perish, don’t die:
Souls, continued forever. “But where?” you inquire, “In what kind of society?”
To wonder yet to no longer wonder of the miracle of each new life: strange,
Unique, a human life! With gift of soul! “Should we ever tire of this?” Yet might One
Of human birth, cloaked in the absence of labor pains, but with wire like shoots grasp,
Possess a Divine Soul? Flesh, like wire like shoots, our flesh, and One Eternal Soul!
-Gary Edward Geraci