Backstage

A change of form, different colored
Clothes and thrift store masks, creation
And re-creation. Do we weep with the changing
Leaves, do we lament when they fall
To give life to the earth? Understand the everlasting
Principal, to have no attachment eating your drumsticks,
A best friend dead and you’re swatting at flies, when
People starve in silent African lands and people blown
By the falling of a silent bomb, understanding a change
Of form, nothing dies but concepts. It is selfish to ask
Monotony, it all stays the same but never in front of our
Eyes. It’s just a change of form, from the wardrobe
Of the seasons, it’s creation and re-creation.
When children become the teachers, when grandparents
Complain it’s not how it used to be, they don’t
Really see that it’s always been the same, in and
Throughout all things, the undying principal eternal
Makes puppets and divine plays for itself, poor
Become beggars, rich become presidents, a swan stays
In the pond, a chicken is caged and slaughtered,
A murderer is euthanized, a child is diseased. We build
Monuments out of fallen forests to glorify
Fallen heroes, yet never glorify this fallen moment. We
Are creating and we are re-creating. The self
Hums to itself, the self knows only One Self.