One Life One Spirit

 

each of us a syllable

crafted with our very own slant

by the italic nib of fate

 

some of us are bold

others, fainter in the margin

perhaps even in lemon juice

 

as time unfolds papyrus

the universal spirit of man

levels us all

 

the knock of the reaper

the soul certainty

of life, will beckon

 

the white rabbits

always in a rush,

mustn’t be late

 

deep underwater

lungs bursting

the spirit climbs the rope

 

no decompression stops

as the air fizzes

champagne in the veins

 

even the absolute

cannot suppress spirit

forever

 

downtrodden perhaps,

beaten never

irrepressible ultimately, always

 

the universal spirit

core of the one life

surfaces and breathes oxygen

 

and mankind knows

it will never be beaten

not now, not ever

 

drying in the sun

he races the reaper

to knock upon your door

 

thence to whisper hope

in your ears

and vitality your eyes

 

can you hear him

on the gravel in the driveway?

he has come for you

 

he will knock only once

bearing liberty on his lips

and a taste of  freedom

 

can you hear him knocking … …