Friday, September 15, 2017

death brings a poem

sometimes i wonder who we are
walking around in garb
that shapes us, defines us, protects us
walking around naked

and sometimes i wonder who we are
that we stay, linger, never budge
or flit, flee, fly off in a snap –

& sometimes i wonder who can we be
that others may keep us, buy us, sell us, steal us
(we don’t know)
and i wonder who we are
that we wrap ourselves
in flags and totems and rainbow displays
demanding that we be seen
– for who we are –

who are we?
plasma and bone, dust to dust?
psyche and ego and soul?
miasma of heavens, dregs of hell?
the strength of nations?
lonely victims of wind and rain
raging seas, islands of emotion
do we die at the hands of others
do we die at the hands of ourselves
do we die by the whims of gods

sometimes i wonder who we are
that we don’t even know
who we are
yet we know all this
we know all that
we know you, me
right, wrong
what should be, what shouldn’t be
and we know
what is

& we know today
you wear
a new cloak