Forest

(By Gub, the 6th of February, 2004)

I go to the forest to collect wood,
Blackened boughs fallen

From where they once stood.

The reaching to heaven
A former life's prayer
Proud trunks now crumble

Particles in despair.

Amidst the grey rot
The moss and so sodden bark
Life still lingers
Persuasive to the last

The wood-louse has plundered
The strength from the grain
The centipede, milled hollows
Exposed to the rain

A circus of lice,
A phalanx of ants
Chew pulp from the rafters
Of the forest's planks

I wonder and marvel
At gods hand on the lathe
He cuts and he saws and he planes and planes
But never a drop of his effort is wasted..

(the bugs and the water
will see us all pasted )

It isn't the fated hurricane that breaks the spine
But gods provident design to steal back time...