Soul Fugue
All things must end,
but is the ending
an absolute?
Is not that end
a shining doorway
that opens to a new beginning?
Does the phoenix not spring,
singing,
from its ashes
into a different sky?
Nataraj dances
while the cosmic wheel turns:
endings and beginnings
are defined
by point of view.
I wish my words could scream,
or burn with a fierce bright light
that would force you
to accept their meaning.
I wish my stanzas would pulsate,
and throb with a neon veracity
that would grab your vacillating gaze
and not let you turn away.
I wish that their reason
would capture you,
and bind you in compelling spell
cast on you by their truth.
I fear, though, that my words
fall short, and you, once more
repeat your foolish mantra
that I’m wrong, and you’re still right.
