Dia de los Muerte

Dia de los Muerte

 

It knows your last day, the grand finale.

It ignores technology, dances with Mother Nature and runs with father time.

Many faiths offer salvation from it, yet it has an endless appetite.

We enlist doctors to keep it an arm’s length away, despite its infinite patience.

 

Poets seek to define it, but as a wisp of smoke, it eludes the mightiest pens.

The finest trained and best armed warriors have no chance versus this undefeated foe.

Artists give it shapes like snakes with fangs or they cloak it in pitch black.

What color is it really, if there is to be a tunnel of white light?

 

Often the darkest shadow or a towering storm cloud, it always lingers.

One day it strikes with skill and precision, every detail planned for the fateful moment.

Other days it stumbles so clumsily and acts out with little rhyme or reason.

Forever stubborn, it never answers our questions, no matter how often we ask, “Why?”

 

Some always run away from this presumed shade of doom, its bladed scythe in tow.

Some are running to it, to feel its final embrace, maybe wings of heaven this time.

Some fear it, some don’t seem to care, but we all look over our shoulders for it.

As we look, it always darts away, we can never measure the distance to it.

 

Mountains of gold and fields full of diamonds never catch its eye.

Wealth holds no meaning for this wily soul wielder; it banks with a different currency.

Many call it evil, since it sets a selfish schedule.

Evil or not, we’re all penciled in.

 

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

formidable. that last line especially the inevitability of it...you displayed it vividly. Well done.