By Tony DeLorger © 2012
How fragile we are in life,
but a stroke of time from death,
yet we embrace life with such carelessness,
We are vessels of such potential,
born to fly yet choose to tread the crusted earth,
the jagged course of lost souls,
begging the penance of our imperfections.
Like specs of light we wonder life,
seeking meaning from without,
when all the time it is life itself the gift,
the purpose in glorious perfection.
Ignorance them becomes the ticking,
the wasting surge of fragility,
that begs our demise without insight,
without the surrender to the beauty of life.
How fragile we are in death,
pleading recompense, another chance,
a sudden epiphany of light,
a grim moment of regret,
and a crystal thought of what could have been.
What course we take matters not,
what gift is given is all in pursuit,
to embrace life for the potential it is,
and to accept and give thanks for the miracle.