Triumph

Triumph

As charcoal keeps its shape
When burned to ashes
But crumbles at a touch
Or at a breath;
So everything that passes
Through life’s fires,
Retains its shape
A moment after death.
And then returns to earth,
To salt and silence.
How curious this triumph
Over death;
That in all things
The spirit is the substance.

N.M. Bodecker

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