We burn intensely for our brief time,
as though the atmosphere of living
is too intense for these
transitional vessels
we call our bodies.
Parents and other relatives,
friends and neighbours,
strangers whom we have never met,
all pass in one fleeting moment,
leaving only an afterimage,
a cosmic afterglow,
on the retina of our lives.
To endow it with meaning
we create gods, and interpret dreams.
We sing songs, and create stories.
Some meditate, yet others despair,
finding anguish, not solace,
within.
Yet we continue to dream
and create; to contemplate
and medicate.
We dance our wild dance,
living in this moment,
this magic, tragic and fleeting
*** flash ***
that is our sum total.
And when it is our time
to burn across that starry sky,
our afterimage will long be felt,
not for the brilliance of our passing,
but for its absence
in a darkened sky.
