Epitaph of Man

As scattered light
Spread by the dawn
Infused in nature
We are born

As grey clouds cross
A winters sky
With silver streaked
We live and die 

As cold winds blow
The flurried snow
Into the night
So we must go

But not before 
Our time has come
To touch the earth
To feel the sun

Our colours mixed
Our brush out flung
Our canvas painted
With no plan

And yet so
 beautiful

This life
Of
Ordinary
Man

_

Egal Bohen