Friday, January 28, 2011

each day the world morphs beyond

anything we've known it to be--

no plan holds--no effort succeeds--

unless it be adherence to the cold dark clay of earth--

to be among those to pull the shoots out of the ground

as if they could enforce growth--

to be with those who wreck all green and growing things

to entomb such things in the crypts of their ambition

and think they've done a wonderous thing--

there are those among us who know better

but we've always been dismissible--what the world does not understand

it will ever seek to destroy--it has always been this way--

on this earth it will never change--

and each and every one of us in the earth will choose our way to die--

born into generalities and dying out in our own particulars

we who in our uncleanliness strive toward the One may one day be clean

and strong enough to pray for those plunging headlong into perdition

as ever the choice is ours--choose wisely then--then dare to leave

the rest to the One

Content (c) 2008-2011 Philip Milito.

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