© Port Whitman Times 2007
Like basic matter
Life is not destroyed
Ending here,
It begins elsewhere
Simultaneously.
It escapes, as mercury does
When pinched between the fingers of fates hand,
Flees existence that's become incarceration
And squirts away through time
To other places where it's hailed anew.
Each death is thus a birth
Celebrated by new parents
Pretending they created it,
When in actuality
It always was,
And will be ever after.
Henry Francisco