Dark Knight

I have felt the aching joy of my child's sweet smile,
moisten my too worldly eyes;
heard the elating joy in her laughter;
smelled the affirming musk of my lover's creating;
and tasted the exciting, sweet fullness of life.

I have stood atop the mountain, feeling awed, the majesty
of my my Lord's creation, moistening my eyes;
have heard my arrogant proud voice, rail against His plan;
smelled my cowering stench - helpless, weak, afraid;
and tasted my bitter invincibility, as enemies fell before my rage.

No god an I, though life I have created;
nor demon dark, though Satan has given me praise;
nor legend, but in the heart of one little girl;
nor extraordinary man, no matter how hard I try.

Deeds, thoughts, and years, it comes down to this:
you can't always live, you can always defy death;
you can't always win, you can always play;
you can't always love, you can always try.

There is love of God and country;
there is love of work and craft;
there is love of family and friends,
the shared comforts of joys and pains.

Little persons, with little minds, make little plans,
building little cities, which encompass us all:
the wisps of smoke in the wind from thier little fires,
choke the changing voice from our lungs.

Poor, stupid knight, unable to change, knowing no other way,
grinning, faces the juggernaut - knowing he will lose.
He sings his songs of wonder and joy, family and friend,
desperation and dedication, and Death kisses him
passionately upon his parted lips.

There is love and there is love, and then, there is love:
naught else matters, naught else stays.
©Mickey West