Stage One

Day One

I am sitting in life’s boat

drifting towards the fall,

the pace stays constant while

the leaves change color

and position,

the birds are the only living thing in sight,

and the clouds reflect Earth in its raw form,

devouring the height of folly that is my realm of reality.

My arbitrary movements do not seem to disturb

nature’s complexities,

rather I am apart of its repetitive rotations

that create the commencement of what life alludes to be.

In life’s boat,

time favors youth

and the implication of what love is.

Do we feel something like love to pass the time?

Or is love the symptom of life’s fever;

searching for someone to heal the sickness.

The edge of the fall draws near

and only then does the current

change pace,

it forgets about you,

and leaves the boat stranded,

deprived of any acknowledgement

and further grasp of understanding,

it must refuse your questions

because if one were omniscient as a

mortal accessory to this world,

we wouldn’t be in need of a God.