The Span

The Span
Copyright © 2011 by Douglas W. Jerving.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author, except as provided by USA copyright law.

The Span

I wish I wish
I pray all day
A hope and dream
That cannot pass
Beyond the plan
Has set as span
Life and dream


So be it loss
Beyond ‘prehension.

What do we do
To curtail the cost;
The dentine baton;
The jaw’s great loss;
The broken bones of
Heresies embossed,
And then tossed out;
Caricatures gone,
Each to his horrid

We reek of history
Known by none
Though everyone
Believes that he
Alone is keeper
Of the key:
The future hid
In present hands,
Our terrible nature
Brought forth to us.
Still even the past
None understands.
Lust of love and
World-worn strife.
The bin of history
Filled up with dust;
The past is to us
Some one else’s life.

Occam’s razor
On all our throats
Like so many
Sacrificial goats
Set upon eternity
Silent before the knife.

Do we not fear death?
(If not at least
We hate it). As
If life were coats
Protecting us with mail
The swinging sword
Cannot penetrate?
Assured only by our Lord
We cannot save our selves.
Now, yes, we die daily.
I die willingly.
Breaking the golden bowl
Tearing the scarlet cord.

His resurrection only
Makes me whole.


Doug Jerving is the publisher of the You may contact him at


Return to The New Edison Gazette main site.