Death and Life

when we die we would be
shoved out of this body into
another plane, something else
it can be quite frightening
the hands of of nature
that work between the known, unknown
but then so what? we never are our own thing
nature never means us to be in control of ourselves
we are always somebody else's
father, mother, the Divine
in between the known, unknown
belief and make belief we plod on
to put sanity into place,
a recurring drama, a sea of waves
sweeping over us, never waking us up

second version

when we die we would be
shoved out of this body into
another plane, something else
it can be quite frightening
the hands of of nature
that work between the known, unknown
but then so what? we never are our own thing
nature never means us to be in control of ourselves
we are always somebody else's
father, mother, the Divine
in between the known, unknown
between belief and make belief
we plod on to put sanity into place
the ants building nests under the rain
a recurring drama, a sea of waves
sweeping over us never waking us up

poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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