What is left when my hair turns gray, falls out?
when my skin wrinkles?
when my eyesight dims,
and hearing fades?
What is left when the poems,
the songs, the melodies
no longer come to me?
are no longer needed from me?
What is left when memory blurs?
when I’ve forgotten even my youthful body?
my sparkling mind?
my loved ones’ names?
What is left when I can no more remember
what upset me?
what delighted me?
what I allowed to define me?
What is left when all that was not me
is gone?
and all that I thought was me
has followed?
What is left when that single remaining
point of consciousness
is surrounded by nothing
but the universe?
What is left is
Everything.
No comments:
Post a Comment