Incarnation

Incarnation Before the beginning of seed, Beneath the threshold of sound, The silver soul must cross life's shoal, Over forgotten ground. Before the appearance of breath, Crawling towards ominous creche, The suffering spirit must make its way Into the suffering flesh. No one who lives can abhor Life's journey from distant shore But all who survive the slow motion dive Are wounded in heart and at core. To take on the mortal mask Is but grief and an onerous task For wonder will die in humanity's sty With all of the questions unasked, Deep is Torn by Hellish And war

the pain of this life, love's pangs and love's strife, with hate and impossible pace with his drum and his fife.

Exquisite the senses are made. How tragic that they are to be slain. The Spirit created but only to take And mankind is always afraid. Carl Estrin