Filament

Life is not the sum of our parts
In death we still have our brain, our heart
Nay, tis a hallowed, scarlet, filament
that consumes our life
It glows with use, with effort, with strife

For good or ill it burns away
In use or disuse it approaches decay
All have a measure of this pow'r
Nothing delays the inevitable hour

Waste not your time O man,
to meditate on a mountaintop
Tarry not with lore of karmic harmony,
crystal orbs or ink blots

Life is no wheel, 'tis a spiral
Numbered are your days, finite, final
Simply live with honor, not by morals from rote
Powered by your heart's filament 'neath your undercoat

Keats
29 October 2010