simonhlilly

All Hallows

We flee this subduction – the slow grinding transformation
From flesh, to dust, to chalk, to smoke, to flame,
To diamond-studded, breathing rock.

We shun this revolving with fabricated pinions,
White, rare, elaborately failing the pull.
Hymns and equations, useless metronomic.

Cleave, rather, to the arc of acceptance
Shatter fragile windows that mock the sun,
The temptation to discretely avoid existence,
Re-writing rules, ignoring inevitabilities.

Life woven from the dance of a million deaths.
Nothing is at fault but our definition,
Our solid, stubborn view, the failure
To join the song for fear of losing a voice.

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