This one's been sitting around a while, and probably needs more polish, but it expresses the mood I'm in right now.
Life as Art
Life is a bit like a piece of music
Where the chords in the middle,
The ones which seem uninteresting,
The little ones, twos and fours that
Things move forward for a long time without
There is no cadence to it.
No phrase, no meter, no
But then miracle and
Some little chord gets flipped on its
Notes begin to stack up like
Calls in the middle of the night.
No good ever came from a call at
The first notes become crushed under ever higher burdens of
And the piece ends there.
Three, four, flat two, five,
. . .
A head with no body. No
We laugh, if we get the joke. Maybe we
Or maybe we scratch our heads and wonder what we missed.
Would that life's final cadence had the glory of
After the wild hunt interrupted our
Would that life were
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