We are hopeful; we are loud
We are nonperishable,
Cyclic, changing-
Remolded constantly in a crucible of
re-understanding; unrelenting
Unvanquished, not even by death.
We are caring and wishing
dreaming, fulfilling
We are breath, in and out-
One, two, three:
Leap without looking
We are above all, hopeful
in the face of adversity
To be human is to hope.
To be human is to dream.
To be human is to be,
never to become, but just to be
Like wind ever moving,
seen and unseen-we pass
through one life to the next
leaving impressions behind.
We are purposed in that our purpose is
a thing to be found, to be sought
and even if it remains lost,
it becomes apparent at the end.
But even the end is a beginning.
There is no such thing as a wasted life;
no such thing as wrong
no such thing as right.
There just is, and whatever is,
is up to us to find.
We may never know where the big bang came from
or what was before.
But if we're lucky, we may one day know ourselves.