Life and death,
a twisted vine sharing a single root
A water bright green
stretching to top a twisted yellow
only to wither itself
as another green unfolds overheard.
One leaf atop another
yet under the next,
a vibrant tapestry of arcs and falls
all in the act of becoming.
Death is the passing of life.
And life
is the stringing together of so many
little passings.
There comes a pause, for human strength will not endure to dance without cessation; and everyone must reach the point at length of absolute prostration.
~ William Wordsworth in "The Prelude" from THE POETICAL WORKS OF WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
