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



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 … …