Poetry

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(in answer to Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

The wish to live on, to still love, to know
beyond the grave
is probably in each mere mortal soul
and we act brave
in the face of daily devastation
at times do rave
at the meaninglessness of mortal life,
find withering in all that we do strive,

yet each lovely thing points straight up to God,
to some existence
that was once perfect, beyond all reproach,
and we do sense
that once we were much greater still than the
incompetence
to which we are bound and that everything
still yearns for company with a supreme being.

[Reference: “In Memoriam A.H.H.” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.]

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