Sara Stowell


The Visitor: Installment Three - Poem by Sara Stowell

DEATH is like a butterfly, released from the cocoon
To ride the wind unfettered, far above the sun and moon.
Where shackles once did bind her, now freedom does abide.
She spreads her wings of gossamer on the currents that she rides.
They take her on a journey upon the cosmic winds
Where she is reunited with old family and friends.
And there she will continue 'til she hears her name once more.
To return unto her shackles as she has done before.
The butterfly folds her wings as the cycle starts anew.
Forgotten are the cosmic winds, and the currents where she flew.

HOPE is like a sailing ship, dependent on the wind
To carry her to safety like an old familiar friend.
When the sea begins to rage, and the sky threatens to fall.
Resolute, she will forge on, though death should come to call.
But she will not give up; her resolve will never bend.
If the sea should try to claim her, she will fight until the end.
She has been here many times, faced death's relentless wrath.
But still she carries on; she never waivers on her path.
She cannot ask for mercy, too great would be the cost.
Should Hope ever admit defeat, her purpose would be lost.

You know of GOOD AND EVIL, the darkness and the light.
But have you understanding, to know the wrong from right?
Good intentions pave the road that will lead to one's demise.
You must understand your choices lest ye choose a path unwise.
If you give to someone needy a portion of your wealth,
Will your gift result in good, improving life and health?
Or will he be empowered to take the road once more
that led to his destruction, as he's often done before?
For good is sometimes evil, the reverse is also true.
Be wary of those shades of gray that lie in wait for you.

Note-Continue on to Installment Four


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 9, 2006



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