Finite, the time you have to ponder
Purpose, meaning
As we pass from day to day
Wondering why we came
Why do we remain
As the hours pass in constant pace
I get up to wash my face
Looking for meaning in everything
Like I have a chance to span the decades
With some great wisdom or insight
As the years tick by in continuous fashion
I watch my time leave me behind
An anachronism of another place
Another time
I tried to find a deeper purpose
Aside from simply being
While it’s true, there are wonders and mysteries
Six decades in, and I still don’t know where I came from
Or where I will go when I leave
It’s not the birth or death that is to fear
It’s just the unknown that gives pause
Heaven or Hell
Like blue sky’s or Grey
It’s having no way of knowing, not really
If we are indeed finite, our life’s time fleeting
Or are we eternal?  Do we go on when we transform
Are we simply solidified light?
Or are we more?
Once our times come
And … we pass through the door?

An Original Poem by H.R Beebe