The Unknown Warrens

[heslopian]

"It is not to be thought that the life of darkness is sunk in misery and lost as if in sorrowing. There is no sorrowing. For sorrow is a thing that is swallowed up in death, and death and dying are the very life of the darkness." - Jacob Boehme

Life is all about movement.
The movement of the static soul
inside the ageing flesh.
From birth it grows like Henry VIII,
beginning as a handsome lad
with tender face and snowflake heart.
But then it strains against the skin,
a beef joint in a breakfast bowl.
So we eat, we drink, we smoke
transient balms to the eternal wounds. Until
the darkness of the soul's adieu
envelopes us like hot water.
There should be no sorrow in death,
the irrefutable knowledge;
scraped knees and the dawn
are one with dying, experiences
all shall have, sights impressed
upon the eye whether we want them or not.
But whereas knees can heal, be soothed,
and dawn comes every day,
death is a hole beneath a tree
which leads to warrens none can know
while moving near them constantly.




.