Thoughts During the Death of Summer

Thoughts During the Death of Summer

Mason Arbeiter

I.
Do not be easily fooled by the blessings of youth.
Although you can run and not feel it tomorrow,
Your sin will surely last to feel the sunrise.
Old age is just your body catching up with your soul.

II.
I prize myself thinking I am that which
I am not.
A simple man, with well-worn 
Hands and lasting wisdom,
Content with his place between the dirt
And the stars. 
But I suppose, with greater worth,
All I am is thankful
To have friends who pray for me.

III.
The Armor of God is,
At times,
Made of bees. Reminiscing 
Is simply a static soul
Yearning for the verb
Of our species. And those
Six legs know it sweeter
Than we do.

IV. 
I enjoy spending time by my
Grave. I cast bone and 
it bounces back. Like a magic
Trick, with new DNA. Knowing
Grace, I cover it in red.

V.
This great riddle resides
Beyond thought and reason.
Creeks are richer 
Than ponds, lungs put their
Faith in the green they should
Not know, and reserved
Love is an eventual eulogy.

---

Mason Arbeiter
Poet & Student

Mason is an amateur Christian, poet, and husband from the borderlands of the Piedmont and Appalachian Mountains, of the city and backwoods. He seeks to find God in the tension of His character, and is still figuring out how to put words to the incommunicable.

Photography by Karolina Kaboom