How fortunate you are,
To be so hopeful,
To believe one day you will be reunited with the ones long passed.
Each passing moment celebrated,
Just means you are a moment closer.
Fearless in the presence of death,
Revelling in suffering.
What a meaningful life it makes for.
I don’t remember existing before I was born,
Why should I believe I will when I die?
Birth and death, two ends of the same thing –
From nothing, then into nothing
Yet astral travelers tell me I have always been.
That life makes you forget,
That this life is one of many.
But how should I know if they have traveled anywhere except the recesses of their minds, furnished by heaps of information gathered unconsciously throughout life, compounded by the mind’s powerful imagination into a coherent credible experience?