Reincarnation Poems

The Cycle Of Life

Life is eternal
Destination unknown
Comes into physical form
Is dormant
Becomes active
Interacts with all of creation
Has an impact on evolution
Leaves physical form
Life is eternal
Destinations unknown
A possible reincarnation 
Comes into physical form
Etc …

The Ugliness of Reincarnation

And if there’s nothing left to come back to ... 
shall we wander the aimless wasteland 
as ghosts 
along with the other extinctic creatures. 
A barren planet of our making: 
literally, Hell on Earth. 
So, let us pray the Lord’s prayer 
for a little intervention. 
A little “on Earth as it is in Heaven.” 
would

The Beauty of Reincarnation

 It’s true, 
You can’t take it with you 
when you die. 
So, what will be waiting for you 
in the next life? 
It’s only what we do now, 
that will determine that. 
So, make good choices for the future, 
your life just may depend on it. 
All our lives depend on it! 

Ah, the

Droplets of Relativity

Life moves ever forward
Every minute that passes
It changes ever so slightly
Stepping closer
Step by step
Til the steps fade out into the night
Millions of them start and end
Like droplets of rain
Eventually they evaporate
Into clouds they form
And soon they'll fall, again and again

Tombstones in the Cemetery

"Some believe they must earn a life in heaven.unaware heaven is already their home" ~ CayCay



Human life is striving for joy while saturated with busy
bits of an emotional seesaw, its movements leave traces
in so many places, our goal seems pre-disabled.  So, it 
is that despite emotional throes we seek fulfillment over 
and over.

As God's

I Came Back From Death

I came back from the dead with petals in my mouth,
The grave had taught me silence, the spring had taught me doubt.
No angels marked my rising, no trumpets split the sky—
Just dust that shook its sorrow, and stars that passed me by.

My new life was a hallway of doors I couldn't name,
Each one a gleaming

Life, Death, Piano

a man, aging yet still of play
for he, a piano plays he
and piano plays he well

but die does our aging man
for he, dead, yet playing on
and piano plays beyond

as born is a child born
for he, a piano plays he
and how plays our child well

a gift, piano, barely learned
but known in this child
as once known in

Skulls

Skulls and roses, skulls and crossbones, most of people who died alone. 

Skulls in corpses, skulls in the living, ‘til they decompose, protection is what they’re giving. 

Protect the mind, that tissue so soft, but easily shaken, easily sent aloft.  

 

Protecting a soul, so sweet and tender, but nothing, not even nature, can

Ten to Ninety

There is no reason to die except
An intent to be born again
Considering this, we are living dead
Why don’t we remember it then
Scientists say that we use only
About ten percent of brain cells
The other ninety must feel a bit lonely
They can’t show up anything else
But a passive presence, or maybe not
Entirely passive, the scientists say
But nobody

Tunnels

Tunneling through nightscapes,
weightless moon doll escapes. 
Collapsing space-time,
the pages and pages,
of fluttering windblown stages
in quantum nonlocality,
a graphic novel engages.
	
Burrowing through dystopian nocturne,
the night traffic gives us heartburn.
In magical claytronics, everyone is reassembled,
reincarnated by cosmic consciousness,
a karmic cautiousness, a persistence of
endless distance but finite parallel.
We see the light out of this tunnel.
Can we make the quantum

How I Look

I see how I look inside out,
not how I look outside in.
My Amtrak races between mountains 
and rivers, my traces, my inner spaces,
my dawnings, my inner longings.

I see how I look inside out,
not how I look outside in.
I leaf through fading pages
of crumbling books bound
with passion strings,
broken by wounded fissures
of regret. 

I see how I

Reincarnation

Trapped in my mind where I become we
So much existence present, each one are me 
Will not Converse nor consult with my spirit's mural I see
My spirit doesn't seem to react to my plea 
In here is a completely new world, real as can be
Entities everywhere, all kinds, visually a tree 
My demands for these

The Memory Caves

In the chambers of the caves, 
I sought refuge from all the moral forgeries 
spreading over the land. Holding my lamp aloft, 
I pursued solace in childhood alcoves. 

In the chambers of endless caves,
I explored myriad twisting pathways
longing for the playful mirth of recall.
But Cerberus confronted me, snarling, 
preventing my passage beyond his gate.

In the

Reunions

Nothing is new
Even me and you
All re-lived 
In time frames anew

Thread through this heart 
Tread to that soul
Weaved and walked
Million years ago

Warmth of that smile
Recalled by this being
Comfort and peace 
No one else could bring

Meet you again
Some day, somewhere;
Different face,
Same old gaze

Reincarnation

we are angels and demons
victims and villains
warlords and peacekeepers –

we have been all of it
incarnation after incarnation –
playing out the game of life –

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