a poem

Eulogy for the Walking Dead

There is triumphant change in human life;
The old begets the new in steady wheels.
And those who fight for stasis are as like
To bring down wounds that fester as that heal.
No good e'er came of silencing a man
Whose beauty, ripe for picking, shows itself
If truly it is beauty, it will stand
Though hell and heaven bar the way with death.
And though you think the dead may not go on
Yet bodies turn to dust and thus to earth;
The transmutation comes to everyone
Lives ending from the moment of our birth.
So any who draw breath, fine girls and boys
your choice lies here before you, in your hand:
Will you be soil for living human joy
Or will your only gift to this green land
Be when you lie beneath it feeding spring?
All things are changing and all things will change
And death, if meaningless, will yet still bring
Fresh fodder for the yearly-dying grain.
You may plant joy, reap love, and beauty give,
Or die alive and only dying, live.