#Poetry: Life…

 

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Life

For every new life, another must take their last breath.

It is the way, the balance.

What soul did my child take, in order to be my son?

Whose soul do I carry in this eternal circle of life and death?

Are we all secondhand beings from this pot of life?

Do we carry another’s sin, their memories?

Will this colour the path we choose?

Can one be born without stain, fully new?

Why do we dream while waiting to enter this world?

Are we born knowing too much?

Is this knowledge extinguished with our first breath?

Can a new soul be born without a memory of life before?

What kind of being would this be?

©Anita Dawes

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