What lies beyond
the edge of this place
Nothing or everything,
Paper or lace?
Why are men born,
Why do we live,
Is it to take,
Is it to give?
After this penance
Purgatory more,
Heaven or Hell
or just as before?
Why all the sorrow
punishment, pain,
Then to return
to ashes again.
Consider creation
of everything new,
Just to destroy,
Terminate and subdue.
Had I the answer
To mystery deep
I’d visit the edge;
Perhaps in my sleep.
With Thanks to my wonderful son for his sketch.
Sketch is fabulous - Love this poem :)
ReplyDeleteValerie;it is said that praise and criticism have one thing in common:they are only of consequence if they eminate from a credible source. Coming from you, this comment is priceless, coming as it does on Independence Day!Thank you very much. I have forwarded your remark to Barry John in the Gaelteacht.
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