Death in the body

 

At the core of everything is becoming;

a deep decision to pour itself into existence.

Everything is in it, with a cosmic rhythm,

quiet and calm, beating like a heart,

he's fictionalizing life.

 

He weaves dreams into the night. Imagine!

A painting made of dots and lines, 

how beautifully it tells us our story...

 

There is a change in the heart of the unknown.

 

A wind... that makes the non-existent and the non-existent exist.

A bridgehead between existence and non-existence.

Both a lullaby and an intercession, 

both a flower and a tear. 

On the tongue like there is and there isn't... 

 

The flight of a butterfly... -and that deep line in the eyes- 

an ambiguous feeling. Both spring and fall!...

A leaf falls, a bud blooms,

that tells of a lifetime, that screams of love,

the pale pose of a fragile flower,

death in the body is inevitable.

 

It is the last farewell, the last word, waiting on the shore.

Perhaps death... of the unknown,

is another beginning, another doorway.