“Slam!” your head goes to the wall,
The barrier between you and the ultimate
Fulfillment, the meaning of existence,
Your existence, and the purpose of your life.
You can’t see through, you can’t see in,
The truth, the passageway, the gateway
To your salvation, not of your soul only,
But of your earthly, very human, life,
The body you breathe with,
The heart you feel with,
Desire with, yearn with,
The mind you reason with,
And yes, also the soul that gives
You life, the spark of genius
Imprinted on all of you,
That makes you, you,
That fire, that passion, that inspiration
And identity that tells you that “Hey,
I am me, I am the person who lives
In this body, feels with these emotions,
Exists, strives, fights, enjoys, suffers,
Struggles, connects, rejects, hurts,
And yes, also senses the earth,
Other creatures, other “me’s” all around.
“I am me, who is different from anyone,
Or anything else on this planet, in this
Galaxy, in this universe, or any other universe.”
“But,” you hesitate, “Who am I?”
That is the question that follows you
Every day of your life,
Keeps you up at night,
Haunts you, every step you take,
In every action, every reaction,
Every experience, with every feeling,
Every vision, every nightmare,
Every dream, every desire.
So, what is the answer?
And where, from who, or what,
Can it be found?
It would be nice to say,
All your questions can be answered,
All your doubts relieved, all your yearnings met
With a soothing, comforting
Affirmation of solace and contentment.
From this person, in this century,
At this place, in these words,
You may find truth,
Truth about yourself,
And truth in relation to everything
Else in your life, your experiences,
Your thoughts, your feelings,
Your hurts, your rage, your suffering.
In this religion, the “eternal truth”
Of all of existence is answered.
In this philosophy, the everlasting answer
To all questions is found.
But, is there really any place,
Any person, any time,
That holds the ultimate answer
To the ultimate question?
If there is, then why do members
Of the human race go on dying,
Suffering, doubting, scheming,
Yearning, hurting, losing, killing,
Wasting away into nothing,
From dust to dust,
What meaning is there in life?
What truth can be found in the end?
And if that truth can be found,
Why has it not redeemed the earth
And the heavens, the men and women,
The innocent creatures, and all the rest,
Of the earth? Why do we all continue
To search, to strive, to yearn to escape
This earthly existence, to find, in some
Other dimension, a better life,
Or simply, a release from this plane,
This prison that is being human?
Why do we go on searching?
And when will it all end?