Assurance

In life,
as in death,
we are assured
of nothing.
Some live by the certainty
of hope,
and this friend gives them,
and their dearly beloveds,
into the same hands of terror
that fling out cruel,
grasping talons
and snatch at the morsels
of any creature.
Our maker,
whatever you believe this to be,
has left us with no truth save this:
that all those born
will die.
Yet in this seeming dark truth
is their true hope,
for if in finding this certainty
do we uncover
Pandoras box of providence?


Lincoln Center
NYC