No one is immune from the moment
A time of clarity
Mortality
Non existence as we know it
No one is free of the haunting
Certain, inevitability
Death
And what might lie beyond it
Sometime after forty it happens
Maybe at 3 a.m.
Over cocktails
During rush hour perhaps
Riveted before the mind
Oblivion, the abyss
A refocusing
Glimpsing enlightenment
So now what?
So now what?
copyright – Michael R. Wood - 2003
Love Tinka
In Spirit,
Bear