Ruminations On Life
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Sept.. 17. 2023
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~ Plaved First~
(The news of the death of dear and near ones reaching us on a daily basis has left me thinking of the transitoriness of life and hence this poem)
Is not our life a wave of energy coursing through ether
Just like flickering flames or fleeting gleams that fly
Which when stopped, like a weed scorched by the sun
Or a tree felled down by a merciless axe, we will die
Is not our life a theatrical performance,
Where we don the roles we are assigned
Some, playing the roles of tyrants or kings
While some act as meek minions consigned
Is not our life a voyage through rough seas
Where we paddle on and on over billowing tide
Never asking where we are heading to
Nor knowing through what currents we ride
Is not our life the footprints left on sandy shores
Washed away instantly by the incoming wave
Not able to measure their length or width
Or be traced as they immediately cave
Is not our life as illusory as the mirage of the desert
Staying beyond our grasp and endlessly deluding
Soothing like an oasis among the dunes of sand
Sometimes like a nightmare awfully distressing
Is not our life a little space lying somewhere
Between our infant cradle and our grave
Where we have struggled to secure our slot
But soon ousted by others who for our place crave
Still we live on, never in despair but in hope
That beyond this mortal life and its tangled ties
Somewhere for us, eternity’s mighty portals await
To harbor our souls when from deep slumber we rise!
Copyright © Valsa George | Year Posted 2022
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