The Book of Life

Wherein this life I do my thoughts rehearse Therein is found my unique chapter and verse This finite earth may be my physical home In spirit I live within this timeless tome As tired faculties begin to ebb with age My legacy will still live upon the page Dispelling my moments of deep,dying gloom The welcoming web nurses my verse volume Let it then clear and stark become my epitaph So that my poems stand as my autograph. What emerges from reading between the lines? The splitting of the physical from the divine.