The Deathless

 We were always going to die

We knew that at the beginning

It was a given

We chose it

Knowing it came with the territory

Why then now

The drawing back

The clutching and tearing at

The precipice

Whose hands are these that

Seek to delay

The inevitable?

What god in me has

Lost his way

Forgotten his free choice?

Perhaps it is that part

Of me that has yet to know

Of its divine parentage

Perhaps I have come to hold the hand

Of a brother who has yet

To taste the elixir

Of immortality

Yes, I am wings

Come to lift this dark earth

Into realization of its divinity

Neither human nor deva

But yet a third thing

As stubborn and solid as iron

The quivering birth

Of a Life

poured molten from

the kundalini furnace

A fiery breath

Forged into yet another sword

for the once and future king