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The Body is treacherous…
We are taught it is mostly composed of water,
And as water it’s ever changing,
Fluctuates constantly,
Like the Waters of Heraclitus´ river.

As I watch the skies before the dawn,
I observe the position of the constellations
Which have accompanied the fates of mankind
Since the dawn of time,
And scrutinize their seasonal permutations.

The moon is waning, bright and covered in mist,
Light bathing my body as I keep waiting
For answers as time slips away,
As the firmament of Southern Fall
Makes the twenty ninth star of Capricorn the brightest.

Things are meant to never last,
Though flux confuses our senses
As that which we were familiar with
Fades away with each passing season,
Until we inhabit a house that becomes alien.

Body is treacherous…
We were immortals once and we suddenly discover
The earthly residence we once knew so well
Rebels against our very selves,
As wild horses drive to tragedy our bountiful cart.