Diogenes
Member
Odd inspiration comes not from strange moments,
that sometimes were fleeting, decadent and hollow;
But like the pallbearer and the fury
is found there in silence and not chateaus.
But O life that is drawn out in long seasons!
O ripe experience, heady and barrelling like boys in breeches,
the harsh winter tide bringing us back in,
and the festive cheer of unbegotten gifts.
Mine are not thine, nor theirs here yet,
your walk, your lies, your gait and fellows
that take me in hand mumbling, "Brotherhood"
and skipping off to their seasons, their trolleys, their homes:
I followed not but stayed far back,
no apprentices, no worshippers, and thine is thine,
but once mine is thine and and much more yet
when will the season fill a knapsack or even a soul empty?
that sometimes were fleeting, decadent and hollow;
But like the pallbearer and the fury
is found there in silence and not chateaus.
But O life that is drawn out in long seasons!
O ripe experience, heady and barrelling like boys in breeches,
the harsh winter tide bringing us back in,
and the festive cheer of unbegotten gifts.
Mine are not thine, nor theirs here yet,
your walk, your lies, your gait and fellows
that take me in hand mumbling, "Brotherhood"
and skipping off to their seasons, their trolleys, their homes:
I followed not but stayed far back,
no apprentices, no worshippers, and thine is thine,
but once mine is thine and and much more yet
when will the season fill a knapsack or even a soul empty?