Writing For G.O.T

Safety Is Only Temporary- #40 --Dark Poetry

200 Words
30 lines--Free Verse.

You think because
flocks of birds beat triangular paths in the air,
woods, attuned to beauty, give off fresh pine smells,
salmon with silvery scales swim upriver, in season,
and poets manufacture loquacious lines non-stop,
you can wear the pride of the titans
and the faith of the sages
and feel strong, cozy, and safe,
strutting in your invisible armor
as if this is the way of the world.

Yet, nothing lasts an infinite duration
raptors, hunters, and phantom storms
break through triangular flight paths,
lightning fires char the woods barren,
black bears and fierce men go after the salmon,
and poets lose their lyrical tongues;
even the sun, as destiny, will be a dead star
for nothing can dazzle the eyes forever,
and the invisible armor you regard as holy
can evaporate for no reason without malice
as this is the way of the world.

And although a chimera hides at every corner
and wild winds, like racing cars,
bang around into all that is fixed
and then they traffic through graveyards,
our consolation prize is
the merrymaking in the minute
while knowing how to know our not-knowing
without being spooked,
as this is the way of the world.

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Prompt: “Safety is a temporary state”