Mortality

A monk says you look at the glass.
It will break someday, you know
May be, there is nothing to look .

From a looking glass I ask myself
Is my poem my equipment to die
Or gratitude to live another day?

My looking glass shall lie broken
To moon-like pieces at a lavatory
And to left is sea reflecting them.

(After reading a thought-provoking article “Idols of Immortality ” by Jacob Rubin )

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