The Transience of Everything

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Everything ends: pomp. show, might, power, life.

Steven Wallace says in one of his poems: The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. Looks quite cryptic, but has such depth. It means that whatever power you have will ultimately be stripped away from you like the talons of wild animal tear away warm flesh- if not in this life (also transitory) then by virtue of death.

People thick they're so high and mighty, but this is biggest deception of all. They feel like they hold power- but let me be very clear- the only power over you is the power of the Almighty.

So I look around me and watch in amusement as people- some whom I once loved like my own, some I don't know but am intimate with the 'type', some I barely know, and I think- funny- what do they strut about for? Like peacocks. Like stallions who in a space of a few years will become old nags- not good enough to even be put out to pasture.

And I smile inwardly- I think about myself having the last laugh. The thing about having the last laugh is that it takes time. It takes time to see the cookie crumble. But I'm pretty good at being patient.

I wait for the last laugh- and the corners of my mouth turn slightly upward in anticipation. 

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