Echos from the past call to me
I hear it in the wind
During the storm
Moving through the trees
Memories of other times
Other people
Whose names I don’t recall
I was there
Many different faces,
Places…
Each time I stepped
through the doorway, I came again
My energy, like the rocks, the trees, and the sky, was eternal
Each time a new song, though the melody remained the same
In the end , the same fear, same longing to understand
That replayed , again , and again
Am I meant to learn some lessons
Reach some level of wisdom
Or simply to experience
To simply be alive
Both birth and death are modalities
Doorways…
And we…. are
The traveler’s
Left to wonder the true nature
Of the journey
As well as the reason
We came in the first place

An Original Poem by H.R Beebe