Chair of Life

As I sit upon the tattered chair of life,
Contemplating my umbilicals. 
I choose not to throw them out. 
But rather, to embrace them,
Trace them,
Race them,
Face them. 
Until the light of day once again,
Casts a shadow of me and my chair,
Across the room,
My womb,
My doom,
My tomb. 
The chair is not a symbol of all that's,
Old and new.  But a pedestal,
For a better view,
Of truth,
Of youth,
Of you. 
And so I will ride this chair,
Until all my days are through. 
Thinking of what you mean to me,
And what I mean to you. 
Ron Hull at the Grand Canyon, 1993.  



Copyright 2004 © Ronald W. Hull

7/18/04 

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