As flows a river so does rush the sun,
Ancestral honors dribble to their doom,
The present ecstasy wells forth, undone,
And future generations flood the tomb.
Mankind was fluid, is and is to be,
The self of yesteryear became a daze,
Each moment, for a second, he is free,
Tomorrow and eternally, a haze!
Yet certainty illuminates the mind,
The visage of the lion and the lamb,
Though all that is about him may unwind,
He still can say the sacred word, “I am.”
Though one may never touch a river twice,
Existence cannot be a game of dice.
Tyler William O’Neil
March 27, 2009