Mundus Transit




Your Book of Life now lies in dust.
Who will read your book now?
The wine and roses, pride and lust
Of your past life now flow
Away, like a dream. Moth and rust
Make dust; out of the dust, new flowers grow.

Sigh no more, sad soul, cry no more
For the things badly done;
For the years spent in this long war,
For battles lost and won.
Listen! there’s a knock on the door!—
Who is it?—Can this be the long lost one?

— Xanadu, Translations from a Lost Language

4 thoughts to “Mundus Transit”

  1. The relative insignificance of our lives, as they are to the great whole of Life, itself. Languages, lives, and histories pale against eternity. For myself, this fine poem describes it well.

  2. Currently in transit(ion):

    We Walk Together

    All our paths head toward the Way,
    Some directly,
    Many circuitously.
    So we walk together, mostly astray.

    No matter how steep the upward slope,
    How precipitous the plane declining,
    All change brings discomfort (a trope),
    To those who much prefer reclining.

    To ignore Spirit’s call still resounding,
    Ancient, treasured missives so conveyed,
    To reject sanctuary, discipline’s bounding,
    Avoids Teacher, GOD’s medicinal bouquet.

    acd 9 June 2019

    May Peace, Love, and Joy be our heart’s content, all ways.

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