Presaging

I am like a flag unfurled in space,

I scent the oncoming winds and must bend with them,

While the things beneath are not yet stirring,

While doors close gently and there is silence in the chimneys

And the windows do not yet tremble and the dust is still heavy –

Then I feel the storm and am vibrant like the sea

And expand and withdraw into myself

And thrust myself forth and am alone in the great storm.

Death

Before us great Death stands

Our fate held close within his quiet hands.

When with proud joy we lift Life’s red wine up

To drink deep of the mystic shining cup

And ecstasy through all our being leaps –

Death bows his head and weeps.