This Is It
We are all born into this World for a season; To walk its soil, eat of its fruit, Work the land, rule and master it And witness its sunsets and sunrises. But along the thread of Life, Mysteriously and insidiously placed, That moment comes to all of us When, with disbelief, we realise, 'This Is It'. Has the Earth really stood thousands of years without me? How will it stand thousands more without me? Can the rocks, the winds, the waters bear not to see me anymore? Will not the lions, fungi and mankind fade away? Sigh! Life is a priviledge, not a right. Like water in my hands, it oozes away, Being above the Earth to be of the Earth, Which indifferently welcomes me; Prodigal Dust. No one asked to be here, Yet no one wants not to be of here. Life, once tasted, is craved forever; But here, sadly, it is in short supply. For that moment has come; This Is It. What is Death like? The Living don't know. The Dead do, of course, but they don’t know that they know; Besides they have n...