Why Are We Here, A Collecting Game? Poem by Chuy Amante

Why am I here?

Is it for gaining
a continual attaining?

Getting more, bigger and better
looking good, a tighter sweater?

Why am I here? Is it a game?
Why is she perfect,
and I am so lame?

Why is it unfair, the playing field is tilted!
Why is my house small, yours big and stilted?

Why does he look free and you're in chains?
Why is she dying, hurting, and full of pains?

Is it possible that you are here, not for stuff?
Here, perfectly located, where it is tough?

Perhaps it is all about lessons to learn,
Nothing to do with what each now earns.

The key to 'winning' your game is this:
Each situation can lead to your own bliss
IF...
You ask the right questions when things go bump,
'where is my lesson in this situation? '
What do I cling to, what do I dump?

All situations, places, people and stories
have hidden pearls to offer, after the gory

Once must ask the questions that benefit,
What can be learned here?
Is he or I full of $#! +?
What can I forgive, and completely let go?
What is funny here, in spite of 6 feet of snow?

What will I henceforth forever avoid?
What is of lasting value, not completely devoid?

Why we are here is not to collect,
We perhaps are here not to neglect

We are here in school with ample chances,
to let go, forgive, create our own happy dances