Friday, March 20, 2009


Into the bottomless depths of
an insatiable human vanity
Some vision, perhaps an illusion
Of youthful conquests, green laurels
Linger in a colorless reverie.
I, cradled in Morpheus’ arms
Unwilling to be awakened from
A blinking dark to light kaleidoscope
Trophies with dull gleams
Plaques with tarnished sheen and
Illegible citations of dubious merit
Brittle sheepskin with obscure Latin script
Are these all that I have wrought
In a lifetime of toil and invention?
How beggarly my existence has been
As I face the numinous One
To Him who bequeathed a legacy
For a life that is replete with promise
Of selflessness, of beneficence, of divinity
All of which were left stillborn in me.

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