The Death Papers.... (Part Three)

one single unidentified
dropp of water in a unnamed ocean...
reflecting both light and darkness,
driven by the tides to lap
at the shore of the unknown.
singular, but not seperate,
sustaining life without thought...
the slave of gravity's intensity.

do i dare stop to shout:
'i am the ocean, i am the tide! '
or is my voice the echo of voices,
merely primordial passion,
and infinite part?

weep not for me!
the casket is not my home.
it merely holds the tears
of your grasping!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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