The ashes of the years diffuse in dust,
Their motes exuding mauvish glow
That alters grey to black. But I’ve no trust
In Time, that cut-purse thief, who robs us so.
For, graveward borne, my gathered decades shorn
From off my limbs, my soul but cuts adrift
And cheats the maggotry of Death. Forlorn
And cheated, Satan rues my flight! Christ’s gift
Of sweet perpetuation foils those worms of Earth
Who rend my flesh when nothing live, lives there.
My human husk decays…to ‘wait rebirth.
Ethereal, my soul’s exultant, where
Abide infinities of angels…white
And efflorescent…beaming lucent light.
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