Fountain of Youth

Sun-bleached bones
Decorate the river bed.
Mossy stones make
Poor company,
For resting souls.
The sweet sounds of
The forest,
Unscathed by man
Disturb eternal sleep.
Here is serenity,
Here is torment.
Live forever among death.
Die forever, among beauty.
Seductive words
Lure your eyes
To this fountain.
Ponce De Leon
Was livid in
His obsession.
We still search,
Out of fear,
And out of want.
Perhaps in Florida,
You will find,
This lost river,
The fountain of Youth.
Perhaps these
Remaining bones,
Are not a testament
To greed, but to desperation.
Four travelers found
This tender fountain.
They bathed for
Eternity.
I am traveler
Number four.
I saw my brothers die.
We had searched for years.
I tested the water,
I washed my face,
My wrinkled years sloughed
Away with the magic water.
It tasted like death.
In ecstacy, my brothers
Leaped and yelped,
For the last time.
Greed took them,
Their last deadly sin.
Now I live upon the
Banks of Youth.
To tend forever,
Their forgotten bones.
My dear brothers,
And this evil river,
I warn you now,
Old age, is something
I shall never know.
Cherish your life.
It is fleeting.

- Tracey Dahl
Copyright © 2008 Tracey Dahl