* * * * *
Chessmen are
limited but their choices are infinite
A lifetime in a
game
Win or lose.
Existence in a box,
movement on a square,
What's there?
In the ranks of the
opposing color?
Some other
“Do or die”
extremists
In the mists?
People are infinite
but their choices are limited
A game for a
lifetime
Win or lose.
Existence in a
state, movement within borders,
Who gives the
orders?
Where fate is
decided beyond the horizon
Who dies and who
lives
In the mists?
* * * * *
We are reptilian
Slithering forth
into life
Calculating,
pulsating
Wanting water,
needing land
Laying our eggs in
the sand
Striking at night,
thoughtful and slow
Never letting go
Until our prey is
limp
Drained and dead
And our mouths are
red.
We are spirits
Shining through
into life
Soaring
Roaring
Wanting work,
needing love
Hoping for help
from above
Dreaming at night,
thoughtful and slow
Always letting go
Until we become
food
For worms and roses
And the eye closes
And the sky opens.
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