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Myth may it be, or be it man's blind faith, 
A rehearsal or else, a dance of death, 
Life lives on edge, death at each passing breath. 

A cosmic law, death is preordained fate 
To welcome, kiss life on a fresh new date 
For one more dance of destiny in wait! 

Be it a fruit, flower, be it a fly, 
Man, matter, none whoso can death defy, 
Everything is destined one day to die. 

Yet, for morbid phobia man stands alone 
Far too scared of death, or of life unknown, 
Not knowing, life comes, death-seed duly sown. 

And Death, not just a balm to every pain, 
End of every suffering, every strain, 
Sunny rainbow, were it perchance to rain. 

What dies is just raiment worn out and old, 
Death delivers a new garment of gold, 
God-given gift, death’s life in a fresh mould. 

Let it what be, death's no devil so grim, 
Nor a poet's pet theme, nor yet a dream 
Snapped, but a golden chance to rise like cream. 
  
So, wish me not well to live on for long,
Just wish me to write and compose my song
And await my new journey’s start-off dong.
__________________________________________ 
Musings | 07.02.2007, revised April 2023|Tercet 
Poet's note: Should this be called a Terza Rima, or a Tercet?
Terza Rima is more of a part of a sonnet's sestet. Tercet is more generic, but not included in the list of poems here.

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