This experience that we call life,
is a little too complex to end with death;
A cycle of forgotten rebirths,
we flow purposefully with time.
Toiling through our gifts and interests,
we endlessly strive from one life to the next.
To nurture and build, one may think
is the calling, but what really is a calling
in a world full with the endlessness of ideas;
Darling, this experience that we call life,
is a little too complex to end with death--—
I hope, if I feel anything in death, death will be more to my liking than so-called life. Where is my next sandwich? bri : )
I welcome death though I've no knowledge of what it is as far as what it will 'mean for me', if anything.
This poem does little for me; it certainly does not answer what I believe are unanswerable questions about our 'existence', life, and death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice work, why believe in something so cruel as death being the end, when there are so many more possibilities we have not yet come to understand. There is a universe outside our consciousness.
so many possibilities, but I think the maddest of them all is our consciousness being reborn after death with no memories or knowledge of our previous lives.... and yes, there is a whole universe outside of our consciousness but I think it is up to our consciousness to find and map it out
and thanks, it really means a lot to me...