Thursday, November 20, 2014

The Beauty of Life and Death: A Poem

As plants depend on nutrients provided through the decomposition of other life forms... 

Life is completely dependent on death.


As life is beautiful... 

Even so, death has a beauty of its own.  

Are morning glories only glorious  because of their blues, purples, and pinks?

Or is there also some kind of art, some kind of beauty, in twisted browns and greens?

Can you see it only in the "living" spring pictures?


Or can you see it in the "dead" of winter, too? 

Nutrition comes not just in summer, 

But next year's fertility drops to the ground in the cold.

Death is no accident or intruder,

But a reminder of glory, a promise of hope, a point on the circle of life.

Nowhere is it more obvious

Than in the seeds, hopeful packages with proof of that tomorrow,

Or later, life springs again and never really stops. 

Even though it may appear otherwise, 

The world continues to turn; the sun continues to shine, 

And November's fallow fields team with anxious life, just waiting for the right time...

To spring to life and reach for the sky, 

And in this circle, nothing...ever...really...dies.










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