All Flesh is Grass

 Flowers on a grave

All flesh is grass,

as seasons pass

it withers, decays, and then sleeps,

to awaken when Spring rains rise

and caress its roots stretching deep.


All flowers fade

that grace the grave,

their beautiful petals will fall,

returning elements to earth,

the same that happens to us all.


All glory dies,

as light leaves eyes,

when the heart and soul separate,

only our minds transcend through time,

to travel to a higher state.


The word of God,

the iron rod,

endures, forever more will stand,

all else will die, all else will fade,

over all God sustains his hand.

About stevenddorsey

I have been an avid writer for as long as I can remember. I enjoy composing poetry, lyrics, children's books and fiction for young adults. I have traveled the world extensively in my 25+ year career as an International Development professional and executive. I have lived in Europe, Latin America, and Africa. I speak Spanish and French. I married Rachel Miltimore in 1985. We have five children and five grandchildren. We currently live in Manassas, Virginia. We enjoy writing children's books together.
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