Poetry Corner: Life after life 

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Times countless

This story has been told

A life lived like a bragging old monk

A life lived as a croaking old frog

A life lived by a proud old peacock

 

It began when he was born

When he was so full of life

When he was so full of lies

When he cared less

 

A pious preacher

They thought he was

A pontificating teacher

They said he was

An inspiring leader

They believed he was

A motivating orator

They heard he was

A kind, hard to define

 

But when that old frog died

In the still of the night

We heard

We measured a new length

In the full view of light

 

When that old frog died

What we measured

In full view, in broad daylight

Measured a real length

 

A find, hard to believe

A find, hard to hide

That old kind, lived a lie

A lie they heard going by

Only after he had died

 

II

From his stories untold

All they heard was a tale of a toad

Nothing they knew of his deeds

None about seeds sown deep

…inside the earth

Sown to sew up some in their need

 

Just a humming frog

Yes he was

Simply a humble bloke

Sure he was

Only a harmless sort

Truly he was

Always a healing touch

Sure he was

His, an honest soul

That he was

 

When that old frog died

In the still of the night

We heard

We measured a new length

In the full view of light

 

When that old frog died

What we measured

In full view, in broad daylight

We measured a real length

 

A kind, hard to find

That kind, learned to live by

So others could find life

That kind, calmed the raging storms

So others could set sail

That kind, waded life’s hurting hurricanes

So others could still remain

In the stream of life

In the nick of time

 

These stories have been  told

After life they have lived was put on hold

 

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