Be Aware

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Death's fragment is our inheritance, 

bashed through time from bard to preacher, 

seldom does our raga of hate weaken,

in this snivelling watered-down version of

living, we take on board as something precious,

defend with armies: fighting since the first

erected cross, stained the last bleeding hill. 

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I wonder and I wonder, as the stars must wonder,

why they gravel the universe in such prolific

design, or the crab wonders, as his wounded meat

smarts, too polluted to eat, he can only scuttle

and remain infertile in less cluttered company. 

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It's not hard to slip into despair, forget the reason

why we are here and substitute our own ideas,

intricate laws, too intricate to maintain; they are

changed and changed, but who do they really

protect, and what has been protected?

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The one-winged bird cannot perfect its flight, 

nor the half-tailed fish its style, as we perfect ours

while wrecking the ball, slack-jawed when the big

mushrooms spores - be aware of that thief in the night. 

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CD Hunter ©  2000