return

if i could say whence i would say back again

 

if i could say again i would say leaving again

 

it all springs from loss

 

incidental  the loss of more or the loss of less

 

nothing to be lost in time eternally forsaken

 

this much shall be preserved

 

what we are losing now cannot measure against the forever lost

 

joy of being part of or abandoned by the irremediable the irrevocable

 

sheer beauty of being a part of or being sundered by the perdition that floods the human mind

 

we are still human we are the too human

 

our lids closely sealed as visions race by in what we call our wake in what we call our sleep

 

 in what they call in what the dead call that slumberous journey

 

pulling into no station for ever marvellously rolling by

 

many a weathered tree witness our passage

 

for only to fire fire returns