7 Ramadan

  THE WHOLE EARTH

I hear the breathing of my sleeping boy next door. 
The whole earth's filled with life.
My pet bird walks on his cage floor
covered over to black out light.

Out on the streets, the roar of night,
cars pass, people shout, silence.
The whole earth turns until it comes right
or we face death, defenseless.

Days go on, way past making sense,
coupled together like breath is.
In and out, both sides of the fence,
as absolute as death is.

Life and death do their dance together and alone.
Alive we eat. When dead, bone.