poetry booklet page 5

 Wintering

If time is an illusion, what is this

a word – winter – of cold times and warm hearts

these are the oxymorons that hold us

but is bondage in human time so bad?

It is this time of primal survival

that man forgets the primordial war –

not mytholigical, but animal –

Battle agaist demons with our spirit

Even pagans knew when the spirits dwelt here

thier unnaparent forsifght is quite strange

did they know that our time is a closed circle?

inexorably, beginning meets end

our condemnation is so visable

when the world falls away and seems to die

cheer and joy are adamentally present

an ironic relic of defiance

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