Admission

What will happen is not what I want to happen
there is no reconciling my desires
to the truth – all that lives, dies
all that exists, will cease to
this is so fundamentally basic
as to be idiotic to point out
it’s hard carved into DNA stone
a frog knows death
well enough, at least
to know to hop from it
and maybe it can’t recall its pollywog days
legless, followed by sprouting buds
growing, lengthening, strengthening
until finally the moment came
SPRING! the first leap in a series
a finite series
jumping to the last, to the end
whether it understands its mortal plight
is not irrelevant
I would like to know
if it harbors a belief of amphibious resurrection
a continuance of its bounding life
beyond the bounds of its life
if therein the frog shares
a unity with man
a base core wish
innate to all that swim, creep or crawl
a difficult denial to overcome
that perhaps no animal can
except the human, and in that thought
I can find solace
that it is not an immortal soul
placed within by divine spark
that separates man from beast
but our ability
to admit to ourselves
that it’s not there
that humanity never had it
and never will

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