Feb. 20, 2012
They are the wrinkles that shape your surface
The darkness that over-ripened your skin
The unceasing process that cycles eternity
Of life and death; beginning and ending
That enjoins you to the flow that we all belong to
Engulfs you into the abyss that all commonalities know
Into the circle we live to break
The fear we disbelieve as inevitable
It is the sweet alcoholic taste
The dry decay of your being
Your defiant acquiescence to time
Of aging and dying; unyielding yet changing
That endows you an immortal beauty, a perpetual depth
That few can only know
The unrelenting grace we dream to achieve
The joy we need bear as inescapable
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