Untrue

Is it me then?
Do I somehow bring
this pain upon myself?
I wake
and no one's here
I sleep enclosed in fear
of nightmare's making

Am I responsible
for all this doubt?
that seems impressed
upon the mind
of all humanity

I live so constantly
within the burden of the knowledge
that to live must mean to die
but what is death?
What does it really mean?

To die to hate is to find love
To die to sorrow
brings the sweetest joy to birth
To die to anger brings
a startling acceptance to the fore

To die to hopelessness
is to bring all hope within
completely as it sings in harmony
composing symphonies
of best and worst, of least and most
of every feeling ever felt
by life itself
in this process of all evolution

and love
will it rush now through the multitude . . . ?
unblocking every stoppage
that brought pain to bear upon
this mortal flesh
that we may intermesh
and come to know
how deep, how true
the joint adventures
of all life can be

a point, a particle, a wave
motion moving in and out
like waves upon the ocean shore
yet this time flesh
must take the place of sand

Can we withstand the tests
of time and space
created o'er the span
of this intellectual arising?

My head hurts
my side is aching
and then I wish
I never knew
not anything at all
especially how it feels
to love another man
who is untrue . . .

?Michaelette?

3/20/2000
Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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