The Snowflake Chronicles

Ghazal

You ask me how I will know when I am dead;
Time, that ancient black cat, will curl around herself and go to sleep.

The wind has no voice of its own, but speaks
in syncopated tones taken from the throats of those it kisses.

Drop by drop a candle sheds its life
sacrificing itself to give us light.

Balanced between opposites we evolve
because out souls struggle for perfection.

The auto mechanic, an interpretive artisan, worships God
by maintaining the creations of others in working order.

Line Count: 10
Form: Ghazal
Notes about poem: Some of the thoughts in this poem I might have used either before or since in other poems. The fourth stanza is too long and needs either rewritten of put in another poem using a different form. It's possible I have two different poems here.

Balanced between opposites we survive because
the heat of expansion curtails our contraction and the pressure of contraction stops our expansion.

Soul seeks to curb insistent self
Ego's dominance restricts the soul's progress.

Balanced between opposites we evolve
when the soul's struggle for perfection curbs insistent self's struggle for dominance.

The city is a blemish on the desert