Fruit Ripening in Stillness

i.

You cannot trust the sky, nor speak
Of unkept promises at that
When an exceedingly fine week
Is followed by a gloomy streak
And clouds blot out the sunny peak.

So how expect of this bright brat
One ever-constant climate? There
Must be some weather change ahead
Throughout one’s life, mundanity
Is all, poor chap, and all the fad.


ii.

 Overstretched life span, back to start again
Spoon-fed with Gerber, every now and then
Sporting a blind and toothless newborn’s grin –
All better than the grave. Why not. But when?

Mere questioning, some callow conscience may
Respond. Go poll them tots, it’s a survey
As good as asking death in her delay;
Just skip the meantime for it has no say.


iii.

Got some life still ahead of me
And some behind.
Know more about the second kind –
Am I half blind?

In comes the term of destiny:
It’s hid, now find.
Ignoring back and forth combined
Should clear my mind.


October 22, 2016