Poetry Sunday

Live to Die

Born of this world

we are doomed to try,

Doomed to live

but freed we die.

Life speeds by

no time to slow

The mind is often

not allowed to grow.

Smell the flowers

breathe the air,

Slow the motion

of life with care.

Beauty in sunsets

the rising moon.

Cherish it all

it ends too soon.

* * * *

Our Earthly Duty

My mind spins a column of webs

in this clouded world we live.

Worldly possessions of wants

never outsource what we give.

I feel I’m alone in pursuit

of wanting to see it end.

Wars, fires and poverty

bureaucracy unwilling to bend.

Changing it all for the better

a haunting daunting task.

One by one we succumb

shedding our outer mask.

Now is the time to rise above;

take aim at our earthly duty.

Each man on his own mission

to share the wealth of beauty!