an accident, you think?
or malevolent design
it's how we were meant to fall apart,
and how we were meant to be perfect
but only in the past - when
we couldn't quite see it
This is to get us ready for heaven.
this loose skin, mottled and blotched
this long-wisped fuzz of what hair we have left
the gauzed-over glaze of memory, milky
and milkier, like albumen
soft-boiled by years on years,
- it is all to get us ready for heaven.
So that when we die, we cry out
in relief, like tears - so clearly now
I see! So firm and taut
is my newborn soul!
my mind is mine, again, and
I am whole,
am home. Again, and
But those who die young,
don't get it.
same way. Those
who die young, they
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.