The Unending Journey
From the whisper of conception,
Man begins his endless march
A traveller unborn, adrift in the ocean of flesh,
Where heartbeat drums like sacred music
And dreams float in liquid silence.
Then birth
A violent dawn, a sudden cry,
He greets the earth with trembling eyes.
Love and hatred stretch their arms before him,
Pain and laughter twine like serpents in his path.
Hands gather to hail his coming,
Some warm with joy, others cold with envy
Yet all sing his song of arrival.
In childhood, innocence is his garment,
He knows not the shadow from the light,
But time, the stern teacher, strips the veil.
If fate grants him a cradle of comfort,
He dances in the halls of pleasure;
But if the world turns its iron face,
He tastes the hunger of the earth.
He learns, he loves, he strives,
He dreams of crowns and kindred hearts.
The clock turns
He toils for bread, he weds his hopes,
He sows his sweat upon the soil of ambition,
Yet the reaper waits, patient and still.
And when death calls
Another road unfolds, mist-clad and strange.
Souls wander at the crossroads of eternity,
Each guided by the lantern of their deeds
Some shining bright, some dim as regret.
The journey does not end,
It curves like a circle in God’s palm,
An eternal riddle carved in dust and spirit
Man walks, falls, rises, and walks again,
Forever a pilgrim between birth and beyond.
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