The sun sinks but it burns like a great fire;
All the sky’s aflame with fierce intent;
Who thinks of death as weakness, is a liar
Before the end our glory must be spent.
The graphics of the branches look Chinese
As blackened brush is drawn across red silk
Infinite yet countable my days
Running like a river without silt
Thus I am not transcendent in myself
But joined to all that lives I feel I am.
In conjunction we will find our health
Ambivalence contains both lion and lamb.
The fire of orange leaves me with a glow
As into night I with all creatures go
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To fulminate against the hands of fate
To vent our anger on beloved friends
Will not repair our ills and our mistakes
But may bring friendships to a bitter end.
For who are we to know what is the best?
Who are we to choose when loved ones die?
And do not think this is a needed test.
As if on us God wastes his time to spy.
Once we were a joining of two cells
The lively sperm, a salmon riding high.
The egg awaiting without need for bells
Is fertilised and grows that which shall die.
Astonishing that we should live at all.
Unsurprising, that a loved one falls.
How my heart sings 