That coffin of cedar, rests by the lush tomb
Vanilla lost in musk, earthy soul of aplomb
How blessed looks the poise, of that cadaver
Which basks in the splendor, of that coffin of cedar

That coffin of cedar, once aged a breathing wood
On the breast of the wilds, stood alone, no good
Now stopped to age, didn’t die though, lives freer
Cherished, by a carpenter, that coffin of cedar

That coffin of cedar, sheared and nailed to a dreaded box
A youth brought alive, death’s undying paradox
Smothered by the polisher, yet smiles that dream astir
Interred with a holy slur, that coffin of cedar

That coffin of cedar, now below a verdant mound
Two souls lost in each other, not ever to be found
Entwined like two serpents, in a mating forever
Breathes to life a lasting prayer, that coffin of cedar

© 2016 Vikas Chandra