Life is so beautiful.
We do not write
her songs..
we live them.

There is a time
and space allotted
for our melody..
the present
moments of
our being
are the notes
through which
we sing it.

Alas, no instrument
is meant to play
its tune forever.
The All of us
are merely
a preamble
to eternal rest..
where our motifs
are severed.

The very silence,
that once rang
for countless eons,
shall eventually
drown our voices out.
None may defy
its hum of nothing,
deafeningly loud.

Until God wills
for music
to begin anew
by letting
there be light.

And then,
we get to live
through it again.
Another song.
Another truth.
Another Life.