Afterlife
Are we like pebbles on the bed
of a great lake when we are dead,
with fate that chose to give us breath
skimming us forward towards death,
gives our momentums skip and flight
in times sequence of day and night .
Propelling onwards, fading rings
marking the surface as each wings,
routing a common destined role ,
do nephesh, jiva, atma, soul,
sink into dark enfolding deep,
cold stone eternally to sleep ?
Copyright © Rick Howarth | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment