I saw , I remember,  I lived
But, what is an experience?
What is a life?
Relived , again, and again
God , saw through me as I tread
The mortal coil
Living, reliving
Have I learned nothing?
I witnessed the brutality
Of the world around me
I lamented the pain of those moments
Those people
Pointing fingers at the perpetrators
Of misery,
Of brutality,
Purveyors of the terror
The hatred
I blamed all of them
As I moved through
Each period
Each lifetime
Missing the same point
Failing to see the same truth
Thus , I must pass through it
Over, and over and over again
Until I understand it
I’m not separate from those periods
Those purveyors of darkness
In truth, we are all connected
All one
All simply parts of a whole
Trying to understand itself
And the dream that is being dreamed
Individuality is an illusion
In truth
Every one of those experiences
Perpetrators were
Me

An Original Poem By H.R. Beebe