
our chosen cloak
whose very warp and weft's composed
of suffering
and death...
Yet he who knows the ebb and flow of tides
within a tree,
knows too the breath of planets
in their pilgrimage.
Also, in his compass, he would hold in view
the rise and fall of circumstance
where man, as nexus of two worlds
stands poised at this midbetween
on razor's edge,
gifted beyond angels,
benisoned in light
and cast in the major role...
could he but know it.