A meditative fantasy poem on the mysteries of love and life.

 
What is it... this thing we are doing?
And what are all these seeds we are sowing?
What we do today comes back tomorrow,
Some to our joy, and some to our sorrow.

Where are the things that tell us of
the origin of what we feel today as love?
Are we roaming spirits occasionally returning
to a world where we are sometimes found yearning...
to rejoin the spirits of those previous life's meeting
and regret that our time together was fleeting?

The love found in this life's journey today
feels so strong that there must be a way
That it comes to us from an era now past...
Who can say that such things don't last?

Reason gives us no way to define
how such an other worldly confine
Did allow us to first meet and then to part
And beyond death and rebirth we can restart
Together again driven by love's desire
That has the power to vanquish hell's fire.

If we do not accept that we are eternal beings
And not only a physical lifetime seeing
What is today only in death to finish
The value of life would seem to diminish.

The span of a life in history's page
Is barely moment on the world stage
From birth to death gather all you are able
The at the end of the day, it is all left on the table.

When you are inside, the outside you can't see
From within your life, how sure can you be
That all the experience and gathered information
Is all that there is to know of the universe causation.

And within our lives are we always showing
That we really want to know where we are going?
Is it only death that is the ultimate destination
Or do we live again another time, another occasion?

You can't take it with you, the profit or the bill
and sometimes after death we direct in a will
but it matters not where the worldly goods go
In the fullness of time, one lifetime leaves little to show.

Living is sorrow, so much pain and grief,
Why did we try to keep seeking relief,
How can we get to where we hoped to go
When at last there was just no way to know
of the outcome, be it good or bad.
But It matters not in the life that we;ve had.

Love is a gift along the way you receive,
From another who you trust never to decieve.
So how much of that are you able to keep
When you find that you have gone to the endless sleep.
Could it be that only love can survive
We must hope that at least this can remain alive

And it will remain as long as a loved one can stay
But then they too will soon sleep so who will still say
This was a good man who did what he could
To show love to those who would
Simply be genuine in all that they did
So that no feelings of doubt would remain hid

I build a house on firm ground
That will still be here when I am not around
Who in these rooms I made so fine
Will enjoy the fruits of this labor of mine.

I feel no emotion for those who will follow
For they will also feel the sorrow
Of easy gain they thought so right
When at the end of the day must come the night.

For what is not through effort earned
Will soon be to the world returned
The things we want we find we won't
Enjoy when to fill our lives they don't.

When we leave this mortal coil it must be with no sorrow
Love and lessons learned is all we can show
With an open heart to those in our life
Who so dearly we hold, but we soon shall part.

- Graham Lyle Ross