The Eyes Of The Dead

green man

The first shovel full of earth hit the lid of my coffin;
My dead eyes stared at the other side;
So that was it, another vehicle worn out:
And what had I done?

We all know we’re going to die;
But we push it to the back of our mind;
And behave like we’re going to live forever;
But each day leads us onwards;
To that one inevitable end.

Another sod hits the coffin lid;
My body has expired;
Because I’m not ‘me’ anymore;
I see everything in a different light;
My perspective has already grown.

In the back of my mind I always knew,
That the purpose of life was to live;
That ‘being human’ was a challenge:
That politics causes disconnection;
And mental stillness joins everything up.

And now everything was still;
As the earth piled up above me;
My mind had clarity;
Lying in the heart of the earth;
As my body rots and my thoughts dissipate:
What was I going to take with me?

Nothing. No-thing. I was entering No-thing-ness;
But in meditation I had already been there;
I was prepared to let go.
There was no-thing left to carry;
No-thing left to resolve;
I had already made myself free within life.

I had left a legacy, one hopefully of compassion and peace;
Of how life could be if the perspective of humanity could grow;
Right view and aspiration,
Right speech, behaviour and livelihood;
And right effort, mindfulness and concentration;
Meant there was another way.

Action was the legacy and purpose;
A step towards what could be;
Where evolution could take the world;
And humanity could become Gods;
Instead of being a virus.

Now the shovelling has stopped;
My tomb was completely silent;
Surrounded by the Earth so many stand on;
Yet so few choose to acknowledge;
Let alone respect.

Here is the truth, each person’s inevitable end;
Silence, the body’s conversion to universal energy;
Purpose fulfilled, because despite what everyone tells you;
The purpose of life is to live.
No-thing left to carry with you.

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