Sonnet 4 'The Beauty of the End, Is, It's Beginning'
The Beauty of the End, is, It's Beginning!
For Aspen never rise, till fire is still,
And all Endeavors, Loves, and Lives are Ash...
All that is product of the Human Will
Persists, till not a stone's upon a stone,
And every outbreath lifts the dust to motes,
Upon the Light that shows a Pilgrim Alone;
Gone far to see what's left -- dust chokes the throat...
So, Ancient Empires fall, but, 'apres le feu'*
The Aspens grow, and someday, gild the slope.
And Life and Death there dance a 'pas de deux',**
And Life gets the Applause, lets go Death's rope,
Death fades and bows and then... was never there...
And leaves a Scent of Morning on the Air...
*'apres le feu' - after the fire
**'pas de deux' - a duet dance in a ballet
Copyright © Andrew Fairchild | Year Posted 2018
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