With wondering (a poem)

I woke up today
with wondering,
with words,
about my life,
about your life.
I tried to grab onto it
with thoughts I cannot see,
or hear
or touch
or taste
or smell
Where do they come from?
And what is the purpose of these thoughts?
Or the life that creates them?
Questions or answers
More self or less self
Being fun or serious
To evolve or be created
To be reborn or to re-die
To follow or lead
Words, whirl around in my head, like a tornado.
Loving or living
Hurting or helping
Birth or death
Left or right
Up or down
Right or wrong
All of it, all of the time.
Sacrifice and destruction
Explosion and implosion
For richer or poorer
Water or land
Nothing is everything
And everything is nothing
Birth is the end of something
And death is beginning
Perhaps consciousness
and creativity are one.
There is light and sound,
Love and laughter,
Hate and crying.
It is all simultaneous
A simulation of sorts
And it’s all happening
At the same moment
That we all share together
The rich and the poor
The lost and the found
The sweet song of a bird
And the burning forest
Life is a mysterious thing, a mysterious glimpse of something.
But what?
A dance
Time
And what is time
but our travel from one state to another.
Darkness to light
Light to darkness
Seasons
Shapes
Numbers
What for?
Opposites attract and wage war
People give and take like the heart pumps blood through the body, or the lungs inhale and exhale air.
We are simultaneously every conceivable opposite,
all at the same time.
It keeps us moving and different from a rock.
Yet we envy the rock
We strive to become the rock
by changing each other.
We want to sleep forever.
How crazy we are.
How crazy and lovely is life,
And death
And the whole process of humanity,
Like a giant abstract canvas
with paint and without it.
There’s hope and despair
Union and separation
Dreams and reality
Sleep and wakefulness
It never ever ends,
Unless we end.
But we won’t end
because not ending is our nature.
Is humanity eternal?
The instruments need to play music and the music needs the instruments to play.
It is this process which is life.
It is only in the cycles
that we can survive.
Destruction
Creation
And so on.
Again
And again
And again.
With the sun
And the moon
And the stars.
Amen.

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