Shadow Of Another Poem by Michael Roysdon

Shadow of another, breeds the shadow of ourselves,
Waking form zero, and sleeping back to zero,
Add two, subtract one, and add another,
One cell divides into two and what before that?
Before there was one there was zero, before zero, nothing;
In nothing does life breathe.

A child, a mother, a forefather of a past life, never dead,
But looped in a spiral, a dusted cadaver exposed to the rind,
However yet still alive, its ashes breathed into new air, and elements,
Still continuing life in another form, permanent;
Back to the beginning of the spiral, and continuing through another cycle,
A new one, yet one of old, lived before, now breathed anew,
Life not torn away, but the absence of knowledge to be gained again,
Once learned and forever continuing to be learned.

So in thoughts do we sleep, and press our ease,
Yet it is a malpractice, few and far between corridors,
The natural flow, dwindled by those few that actually use it,
Most too naïve to understand the neutrality of its wake, from zero to zero,
And forever continuing, back to the beginning, or end.