RAINDROPS IN A HURRICANE

Side note: It has taken me a couple of hours last night and over an hour this morning to verify and publish my account in order to publish this story through stripe. The inconvenience was incredibly invasive, incredibly offensive and not up to par with what I had originally signed up for and getting in touch with someone was not an endeavor which I feel I wish to follow through with. I am extremely disappointed and angry with Vocal and stripe for making me jump through hoops just to post one poem and more than likely I will be deleting my account after all the crap Stripe made me endure but at the least, I want the people that run this website to know how offensive the whole Stripe thing is and it may just be worth leaving as there are many websites worth moving to. I'm not one of the top writers so I'm sure it won't be a big deal to Vocal, but I did enjoy the many writers that were on here, but the taste left in my mouth is beyond bitter!!!

Raindrops in a Hurricane

(Revised Version)

What is eternity to man?
To pierce the veil of dark unknown.
Where there is no promise written
in expectation of tomorrow—
whether in his mind, or that of his gods.

There is no offering one can make,
no belief in treasure to be laden up
in gold or prosperity,
position or fame.

We are stardust landing in a vessel,
to be carried for a time
in a soul borrowed,
encapsulated in flesh.

We are moments of lucidity
parsed out in years,
given license to roam freely
’til the universe beckons once again.

But to taste the moments of flesh,
the nature of being human—
a spark against the backdrop of the sun,
power unmatched!

A gift to the creators to know,
but for a moment,
the exaltation of the created.

Like our suns,
we are iron at the end,
’til in the eternity of our universe
we are compost gifted to the stars—
to recombine, reincarnate,
and carry on the names
of those mightier than us.

We are gnats nipping
at the heels of giants.