Early Morning Quiet

A Magpie Tale

Still autumn morning, no warning

Of winter’s coming. The swelling
Light thrumming through the trees
Gives me pause to implore
of you these queries, though they might
prove wearying, ere the end:

How will you spend this day?

Will you acknowledge what is:

A world turning over glowing coals,

Slowly burning on its spit?

A pit of despair for so many…

A mortal sphere on which any and all

Are doomed to fall as surely as ash

And rubble? Or can it be your bubble

Has not yet burst, that you do not feel

The thirst?  “Do you fear death?”

Does its foul breath make you run

And hide inside, where you hoard,

Good Lord, as if it will make

A difference…as if you can take any

Of this with you?  What will you do

When the end comes?  No pile of petty

Cash, much less a Swiss stash, can slow

The reaper…no, that old creeper

Will collect his due…including

You and me.  But, you see there is another

Way to start each day: rather than spend

Your energy as if this is the end, please

Consider that it may be a new beginning…

Do not sing of final nights, with darkness

Falling, but one long day, and this

Be our morning, “quite early morning!”

Besides, should the zombie apocalypse

Arrive, swept along on ghoulish tides,
This gimpy, lumpy, grumpy Puck

Will surely be a dead, dead duck.

For more takes on this Magpie prompt, go here!

Credit also must be given to Pete Seeger, whose rendering of "Quite Early Morning" continues to inspire.