Life’s Own - Ill

 

     What World we could write,

If we valued all life,

A tenacious understanding

To protect all that’s living,

Be a human worth being!

 

Then what of death?

     No longer a morbid curiosity,

     But the celebration of what had chance,

What breathed and gave fruit,

What lived by the Sun, Stars and Moon.

 

     What is here and now?

Lost enclosures of forfeiture,

Where living is denied its right,

And we fight, for places to kill!

 

     This future child we bare in our soul,

This flower we sow,

This life we release to worlds of harm,

Be the tear that’s lost in seas of blood;

A feast for Monsters,

Praising a multitude -

Deemed as God!

 

Michael J Waite 11th April 2016.