Whose Journey?
E
Eric Cockrell
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i am sick
of a thousand births
in a thousand forms,
is light not light?
is not the water dripping
from the faucet,
the same water that
fills the ocean?
is not night the darkness
of the womb?
be not the fallen leaf the bud
of another time?
is not the old man just buried,
the baby in the mother's arms?
is not the soldier that just fired,
the child killed by the bombing?
is not the lover that just left,
the young girl in first love?
is not the king of the world,
the begger in the alley?
whose journey is this now?
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