(Poem 93 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Pain is not truth;
it is simply what we must endure to find truth.
This body we are experiencing is an embroidered flower,
merely representative,
beautiful,
but artificial,
not the full living embodiment of the flower.
Thoughts are guests checking in and out of our quaint inn,
just as this form is temporary,
a visitor who will travel on.
We take death so personally,
spend a lifetime preventing loss,
projecting fear from our own ignorance,
denying our own place in the circle.
It is only possible to lose what is not real.
Even if we think we’ve lost everything,
what remains is what is real.
@Home Studio – 93rd poem of the year
Chopra, Deepak. The Way of the Wizard: Twenty Spiritual Lessons for Creating the Life You Want. New York, United States of America, Harmony Books, 1995, pp. 96-101.
Runner ups for the circle of life photos to accompany my poem:
rebekahjmarshall 