Nature's Decay

July 2010

I think about

Beauty

Rather than destruction

And creation

Rather than decay.

Yet, there it lay,

So I brushed off the sadness

Enveloping my body,

Filling up my mind,

Leaving happiness aside.

Fragile crunchy brown

Became

Sturdy soft emerald

Until truth manifested and

Nothing was left to do.

So there it remained

Dead

And weak

And forgotten.

It’s fragility an old lady

Whose bones were too weak

To support her wrinkled body

And heavy weighted soul.

I hated that leaf

And the sadness it held,

The promise of decay:

Of a fast-approaching end.

The rebuttal of Forever.

So I peered at the treasure

- My treasure –

I stole that very day

A blue and black feather

Of a bird gone astray.

The fate of the bird

Was one left unheard;

I think for the better.

For if it had been death

That had brought upon this loss,

I believe that my faith

In this splendiferous life

Would have been forever lost.

Some call it beauty,

I call it strife,

For it’s hard to see

True Beauty

In this self-destructing life.