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Eulogy of The Horizon

 

What is spring but the planned pregnancy of nature?
Like rebirth on routine and conveyor belt harvesting
Processed beauty bringing forth bloom like the offspring of mother nature
Yet we exploit her young and speak a monotonous metaphor

How hard it is to see a rose knowing it will wilt?
In all the naked glory of the fields for a calendar spread
And yet it seems she makes for a better centerfold
Like if the world is exploitable then nothing is off limits

Why are we so prone to showcase tragedy?
Like winter is the frost bite of snow white ash
And we’ve yearned for the color beneath a crystallized death
As the ground thaws and a dormant seed germinates

The sun calls out the infant budding of a new leaf
Turning over atop the graves of our past
It seems there’s a fine line between daisies and roses
And what would it mean to cross pollinate
A thorn with a garden to adorn the dead

Yet simply natures potpourri, perfuming the air
To tolerate the stench of yesterday
With the empty promise of a more beautiful tomorrow

When every moment comes to pass, and we with it, age
How many springs will we watch pass us by as our youth decays?
And yet we exist here in this moment
Knowing life is as temporal as these brighter days

When everything is subject to abortion
In the womb of a time that abandons us
Fighting for the hope of greener grass
Yet caring better for our lawns than our lives

And at the same time, what is mother nature
But a war scourged canvas like the poster child for battered wives
As innocence is lost with the ways we abuse the scenery
Nevertheless fighting truer for the dust itself
Than a species born of the same

When spring is the beauty of life that we can’t maintain
As every petal wrinkles and keels over to shadow before it turns to ash
Bittersweet this season is the renaissance of God
Encapsulating the evidence of an afterlife paradise

As if every cherished moment short lived is but a flake off streets of gold
A cascading reminder of the light of the sun
Whose rays speak like a eulogy for the horizon at dusk
And yet its beams are but the shadow of the valley of death
By comparison to a glory unseen…
cloventongue89
Written by cloventongue89 (Nathaniel Peter)
Published
Author's Note
This poem was written about the nature of life and death and the way they cross paths in autumn with references to the idea that generally speaking the things that people find most poetic are...
This poem was written about the nature of life and death and the way they cross paths in autumn with references to the idea that generally speaking the things that people find most poetic are tragedies but this stands to unveil the reality that tragedy is as temporal as the fading glory of a dying earth. In a lot of ways we are but seeds breaking in the ground of the earth waiting to bloom in heaven.
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