Poems ✍️

Of a powerless station we

be to Death and its plight,

void of mortal intervention

as this entity be puissant-

and its mission impervious

to pause... negotiation,

its fiber...bare of heart,

arrives on a windless breeze

it's just time and place,

particulars like dimensions,

just a balance of proportions

like Fibonacci's prosody

in a paradox of ratios,

lending a slant of balance,

and intangible scenarios

that science conjures up

to pretend they understand

what's not ours to understand-

until Souls we do become.



________ ~F j R~ _______



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Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjRin