Feel The Pulse Of Life Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

The arc of character's a simple myth
The arrow of time will find no target -
No bow is drawn that brings a point to life
The story will fall short - forget regret.

The waves that ripple to the waiting shore
Will play at making runnels in the sand
But tides erase them to what went before
Re-scribing palimpsests that know no end.

Nature is indifferent to age or youth
And beauty's parallel is constant change
Time's industry erodes each laid down truth:
Its endless task to shift and rearrange.

Watch each moment then and every breath
And feel the pulse of life - neglecting death.