If we are to plummet to
Our demise,
Will it seem like a dream without a quest?
Will we drift through realms of restlessness
as we rest
Withholding bated breath
Until the Sunrises Unto a New Dawn
After a gloomy Moon sets?

If we are to soar to
Our birth,
Will it be a means of reality on the earth?
Yet, Will we be happy not being homesick for heaven or heaven sent?
As we compel yet to beget
Are we so consumed with urgency
that we soon forget?
When we fall to our demise,
Who will catch us in a safe net?
Will we be able to catch our withheld breath
With the Moon looming above a New Dusk
After the flaming Sunsets?

Shall we emerge at the margins,
Or do we sink into suspense?
If we decline to awaken,
Do we increase to misrecollect?
Who would care to intervene
in such an unfatal fall?
Why would a person interfere
with the dwarfish rising
Of our earliest beginning
Of our endless end?

If we are to rise to the margins
or fall into apprehension,
shall we announce our love
for every mile or inch,
shall we go silently to our quiet oblivion
with an unworthy aim?
Will an inky black hand
reach out for us into the deep darkness
to retreat away from the rising heat
or save us from the hot flame?
We rise-We fall amidst unusual terrains,
Where the unknowns become known,
or the known no longer shown.
The ability to plan for pleasure gets offset by our ability to fear the unknown
and dread pain,
To endure forever and ever over and over,
again and again.

Have we set ourselves the impossible task of making unrest out of the rest?
We’ll kill ourselves If we persist
To resist change and try to cling to life is akin to holding our last breath.
To embrace change,
One must plunge into it,
flow with its rhythm,
whether it's the highest height
or its lowest depth,
Adapt to its movements
and become a part of its mazy steps.
The music of life
is a sound that one has to accept.
Life and death flux in harmony,
each a different facet of the same force;
The eternal dance of change that can create just as much as it can destroy.