Monday, November 5, 2012


for HHH, 
gone but not forgotten   

     Your spirit is your breath, your animus,
     A vital force that lasts until you die
     And then expires, as all that’s living does—
     No need to wonder about where or why.

     The spark that lit when you were first conceived
     And lasts until expiring blows it out
     Is gone for good, though many have believed
     It still continues in the air about,

     Or passes into an etheric sphere
     Imagined as a hedge against despair
     Where nothing’s ever lost that’s loved and dear
     But cherished there with kind celestial care.

          Not so, for all that anybody knows:
          It’s only out of fear this myth arose.