Verse 37
Saturn, keep your lessons. I have paid tuition in funerals.
Saturn, keep your lessons. I have paid tuition in funerals.
Do not tell the hungry that scarcity is a master. Hunger teaches the shape of an empty bowl.
Do not tell the grieving that delay builds character. The grave has enough architecture.
I reject the priest who arrives after disaster carrying a meaning he prepared beforehand.
If suffering refines souls, explain the ones it only breaks.
If debt is cosmic, show the contract.
If karma is exact, why do its accountants speak in riddles?
I would rather call pain pain than polish it into a ladder.
Old planet, I know your defenders: patience, maturity, harvest, wisdom.
They always speak after surviving.
The dead publish fewer philosophies.
Still, I will not lie: bitterness is also a chain.
So I keep my hatred sharp enough to cut rope, not flesh.
When winter ends, I will not thank winter.
I will thank whoever shared food.