On Guard Poem by Brian Taylor

The young
cannot believe that the old
were young
once.

The old
have quite forgotten
that the young
were once old.

Danger
comes from the worlds,
from the heavens,
from the hells.

Danger comes
through the sense doors.

Danger comes
to the body
which breaks and stumbles.
Every lungful of air
infiltrates microbes of destruction.
Every spadeful of earth
shelters a thousand enemies
that writhe and wriggle,
insinuate through cracks and fissures
in the tissue of the flesh
- and destroy.

Danger comes
to the mind
which absorbs the subtlest poisons
and provides a fertile, breeding ground
for the subtlest of poisonous plants;
to seed and germinate,
overspilling in the ten directions.

Danger comes
from having a body,
having a mind
wanting a body,
wanting a mind,
wanting.