Souls Who Will Demand Satisfaction

I’ve been giving people cancer lately
In these, the waning winter months
When nearly all tolerance and forbearance has been cashed
To pay for the mortgage and other debts that destroy worlds.

“Can I do this and continue to live happily?”
I ask myself from time to time in my day to day.
No simple answer replies – no bolt of lightning crashes down.
Just the persistent heat stolen from the African sun responds:

“The north wind hunts wildly for souls
Who will demand their satisfaction,
In spite of all the canyon collapse that lay at their feet,
And the dead generations that live in the ruins around them.

When caught they writhe in such fits
Even a scoundrel’s fool would be ashamed.
They suffer and want for nothing more than their worth
And they cry harshly, critically, soulfully and then they die.”

I’ve been feeling my sore feet too often,
Enjoying my stories and fantasies too much.
In the night I do not sleep or rest because of the cries;
I hear them in the dream alleys that flee when I wake.

One day I shall be among them again, I know.
Though for now I must resign my throne.
One day I shall be a soul feeling life twice once more:
I shall cry out in anguish, become none, and never wake.

5/09