Sunday, May 25, 2008

2. Death

Leaning on a sturdy stick
I carry my tottering body
On a wobbly path
To meadows far beyond.

Right ahead is a huge pit
Impossible to transcend or skirt,
But with meadows in sight
I can’t see the pit.

Stopping the journey is not in my power
Turning back is not possible
No other path exists,
But if I could see the pit
I could prepare for it
And not for the meadows
Which I can never reach.

2 comments:

manoj said...

Well said. Though it is a good reminder, I doubt if I will see the pit next time and 'prepare for it' as you say.

Anonymous said...

it's a bit morbid