At Death's Birth

Love and Beauty distilled
To pure, bittersweet sadness,
My self-claimed soul drawn
Like every other
Back into its eternal womb--
The sheer weightlessness
Of no solid or imagined
Earth-scented thing too great--

Uncharted, untouched
By breath of highest beast--
Only the living can still leap--
What philosopher or poet
Ever endured
To embroider
That final, endless moment?