POEM 130: FOR MARTINS ON HIS BIRTHDAY


DEEP

The dept of being held and discarded
The dept of being left alone and surrounded
The dept of being loved and hated
The dept of being forgotten and re-membered
The dept of being alive and dead
The dept of being dead and immortal
The dept of being mused and amused
The dept of being silent amongst noise
The dept of being one with home
The dept of being alone and away
The dept of being the same and changed
The dept of being what makes us decay
because the dept of the fall
is the strongest of them all
but this birth and existence we yearly celebrate
and our inert wishes whisper and embrace
for a while
in a while
until into the wind away they fly
our hopes
our goals
our own
our ghosts...
at last
and it is just one feeling we cannot change
hence we can't help but age
and thrive and smile and celebrate
until life ebbs away
at the tail end of the tunnel
where we've dug Deep
our feet on time's sandy shore.

Happy Birthday, Martins Deep
Glow. Grow. Flourish. 


#Pengician
#SSA


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