I've been thinking about this for the past few days, as I read through headlines of all the people getting killed by the violence in our world. I wanted to create some peace around their deaths and then looked outwards towards the cosmos. I reflected on what the cosmos might actually signify. I came to a personal conclusion that at the time of death, each of our spiritual guides comes to us to comfort us and to help us forget the tragic circumstances in which we met our end. Our spiritual guide breathes in the love energy back into us and turns us into stars in the cosmos that reflect the light of love back on earth, encouraging all species, especially the human species, to love. This is my poem...
When we die, our personal guide appears.
When we die, our personal guide steers us clear of danger.
When we die, our personal guide makes us forget just how we died.
In the end, it doesn't really matter because love was meant to be scattered.
When we die, our personal guide takes us in their arms.
When we die, our personal guide tells us we're away from all harm.
When we die, our personal guide comforts and renews the joy inside.
In the end, it doesn't really matter because love was meant to be scattered.
When we die, our personal guide transforms us back.
When we die, our personal guide puts us on track.
When we die, our personal guide says there's nothing left to hide.
In the end, it doesn't matter because love was meant to be scattered.
When we die, our personal guide wipes clean the events in our lives.
When we die, our personal guide transforms us into stars, brilliant, free of strife.
When we die, our personal guide takes us on a cosmic ride.
In the end, it doesn't matter because love was meant to be scattered.
In the end, it doesn't matter because our love was meant to be scattered.
When we die, what we did on earth is no longer our truth in memories.
When we die, we are the stars that watch over the galaxies.
When we die, the bright, luminous stars we are send out love to all that is life.
In the end, it doesn't matter because our love was meant to be scattered.
You, who are on earth now, look up, up, up, to the cosmos,
When you've swallowed the bitter pill of life and feel the sorrow,
Look up, up, up, to the shining stars who were once your brethren,
We are always here to remind you to love again.
You, who are still alive, have a chance.
You, who are still alive, dance, dance, dance.
Together, share together, love together, as sister, brother, one another, each other, and with the other.
In the end, it doesn't matter because our love was meant to be scattered.
