The body is held up by the inflexible, at its core
It is just a skeleton, a sight that invokes great fear, but without it
The soft gaze of the eyes cannot peer into those of the beloved
Bones soften with age, but the mind does otherwise
It is a cloud hanging over the body, hiding the vast sky beyond
Those with flexible commitments to desires, may get a glimpse
No matter how dark a cloud, it cannot blot out the light of the sun
Unless the sun chooses otherwise, but why would it?
It’s inflexible schedule makes it an old faithful, shining down and baking
Our hard physical reality, conforming to the laws of life, and not our taste
The mind can be made flexible, whether it showers happiness or sorrow
How we choose to live life is flexible, but the consequences are inflexible