Cosmic Sadness

the pain has risen melting from the skin ripped from our grasp 

another journey begins

the down of a man—lifted up—carried on a thousand words

having sung his striking features and aromas caught

bottled in God’s creatures

charcoal and wine sketching his existence.

veins weeping and reaching with tiny fingers seeking seasons of blankness 

gifted only the sound of inner cries lying

the young are aware of the smell of despair and dare though difficult to escape

trenches of reality—he was never told the tales that death keeps

   that’s all that’s left after floating out of reach 

nothing else to teach the puffy tots 

the wolves lean in clenching lifelessness to life eternal