Living Fossils

Questions don’t always follow with answers.
Dateless fossils with stories to tell.
Enquiries that even the best Scientist
have yet to excavate their reasoning.
In the beginning when the sun was closed
and before time was to begin again.

Searching for what was lost as if finding
it would bring some form of resolution.
A resolve to live as we breathe
to feel the ground absorb the rain
that produced the tender plant
that heals from his wounded side.

Darkness overshadowing brightness
too occupied with death to accept immortality.
He scavenges through alleys for prey
to inhale the winds of life.
For this reason we keep the light on to frighten
away the apparition hiding underneath the bed.

The morning when the mirror is no longer
gentle enough to disguise time we begin repenting.
Lamenting for the evils performed by the hands whose
lines now tell their own tales and record indiscretions.
Chronicles in journals kept in the attic underneath the
preserved flower unearthed from the garden.