The Eternal Eulogy

A blank page 

died moments ago,

so a written page 

could be born. 

This pen is dying

with each letter,

sacrificing itself 

for the genesis of words.

Outside my window,

the clouds are committing 

a hecatomb–

raindrops scream

as they splatter 

onto cabbage leaves and rosemary buds.

All the while, 

wood chunks 

crackle selflessly

in the kitchen corner stove;

they are the wellspring 

for the 

breathless teapot, 

erupting 

with the eternal eulogy

of existence.