epitaph
not ours the choice
of the coming, nor the going
though ceaselessly we choices in between them make
not ours the power
of right and wrong doing
though differences we haplessly between them take
not ours the reason
of the harvest, nor the windfall
though endlessly we claim their bounty as our own
not ours the meaning
of the silence, nor the tongue's call
though spinning on their rhythms our heart is shown
not ours the giving, nor the taking
not ours the gift
of life and death
given, taken, none forsaking
for
to each of us
it falls
and to it
each one of us
must fall in turn
and in that falling
turn again
december 23rd 2004
for my father