The Pulse of Life
Where art thou yesterday's fleeting mist or today's elusive promise,
Frail burning embers of tomorrow's hope hidden between spaces in time.
Those who seek faith in the intangible, resides the flavors or life,
Lest unflappable by unwavering certainty, there is none.
Quickening's hastily forgotten as whispers of air ore the boughs,
Its invisible dance indiscernible insidious to the wearied soul.
To those who scarcely believe what treacherous eyes behold,
Golden moments amidst the realms of yesterday today and tomorrow.
Perceptions of immortality, its furtive and largely unknown,
Flows invariable and absolute strung throughout eternity.
Fragments of perplexity and peril fodder of our infinite course,
Infringe upon strange anomalies the Spirit of the ordained.
A destiny haphazard in its bond timeless design beyond reproach,
Awakens desire to extract truth from the veins of the pulse of life.
Tireless gazes seek all direction to glimpse the path dimly lit,
Its substance innate by appointed intent lest we do not exist at all.
Share This Poem