ReturningA Poem by Bob BTo return to the essence of what I was Before I was: a mystery. Will knowing who or what I was Before I was be clear to me?
To speculate on lofty dreams: Wistful efforts to fantasize Something that’s unheard by formless Ears or seen by formless eyes.
Disintegration of ruins show The odd conception of what became A vainglorious attempt to have A monument outlast its name.
Will the name be muffled by The echoes of a limitless void When all semblance to what we think Is real is once and for all destroyed?
Even though impermanence Governs what we think and feel, Maybe a deep understanding Reveals something pure and real--
As real as any bubble that bursts Or lightning flash from sky to earth. Must being be purely palpable, Or does it somehow transcend our birth?
Speculation gives the seeker Hope--a blissful sanguinity-- While past, present, and future constantly Merge into infinity?
-by Bob B (7-28-18) © 2018 Bob B |
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Added on July 28, 2018 Last Updated on July 28, 2018 Author
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