Beginnings Without End

All of Nature,

Whether Human

Or tumbleweed,

Or a tumbling rock,
Once a jagged outcrop,
Defying the elements,
Now enjoys time's ultimate caress,

Duration is at Time’s beckon call.

 
 
With seasonal edges worn,
Earlier molten flames
Now cooled by erosional changes
Makes way the exit for
Rounded mobility cautious,
Yet spirited .

Home now,
Where one's numberless front-door-entries,
Rest forever as memory,
Beckoning the distant walk,
Embracing the halls of lessons,
Where successful achievements adorn walls
In frames of permanence,
While failures, needing no reminders,
Remain content as a collective density
Cluttering attics of the mind.

How unique this maze of wistful twists and turns

Through Life’s hallways and rooms
Leading to a back door where,
Barring one's hesitation,
Death will not extinguish one’s existence,
But provide a new form and direction

Perhaps guided by the inner soul.

How generous the reminder…

 
Death is not a period,
Merely a comma.