This Fragile Earth

16 line poem

There is no time upon this fragile earth,

No measure of death, no knowledge of birth,

There is no yesteryear of precious sentiment,

Nor march of day, nor hour of appointment.  

The visit of the skull is forever engraved,

The audience of the beloved keeps one enslaved,

That future fortune found fulfilling the ego,

Is that lost child wish from thirty years ago.  

The encounter with the White Vulture God's might,

Postdates the blossom of the Shooting Star's light,

But meteor and ancient faith burn fiercely at once,

In the life tapestry of heart care and soul dance which hunts.

The beloved away, the touch of the sacred,

The kiss of the cosmic falls,

There is no time, all are senses known and kept,

In Mystic and Secret Walls.

Raymond Lee Collins

January 29 1991

Tuesday Night

Swallow Camp, Illinois

copyright reserved by the publisher

Carol A Wells