Colin F. Jones

CHANGELESS CHANGE

What is more tempting than to tease the flame,
Of that which burns beholding righteous name,
Perhaps to see if such a flame doth burn,
From inside the Devil’s complicated urn.
More hurtful is the coldness of a fire
That lurks there as a threat in warm desire
Disguised in all the flare that hides its shape
From which the impressionable mind cannot escape.
The earth was structured quite without a house,
With roaring Tiger and with squeaking mouse,
All with quaint ways of securing things to eat,
And given claws to fight against defeat.
And we who think we’re different do the same,
With the exception that we seek someone to blame.