by Carl Martin Johnson
He awoke and tasted life,
Like morning dew on his lips.
As with a newly married wife,
He would first take gentle sips.
Around him lay dead and dying,
Yet Fate let him survive.
Departing souls were flying,
But he was still alive.
He breathed the foul air in,
As if it were perfume.
He was alive again.
He had not met his doom.
The World Soul flowed into him.
Its grandeur filled his heart.
All Beings now they knew him.
Of all existence, he was a part.
And the life he was now tasting
He would surely savor.
Not a morsel would go wasting.
This time he would enjoy each flavor.
– Carl Martin Johnson –
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Carl Johnson’s Poetry page, War Song page & Website
This first appeared in The Havok Journal on February 10, 2017.
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