Return To a Desolate Planet 

Souls of yet unborn children,

hovering .....

high above the ether of cold winter space nights,

waiting ....

to be chosen for rebirth once more,

hoping ....

for another remote fragile chance

at spiritual completion.

...........

First embracing, then dismissing ....

the darkest possibilities. ....

Turning one's back to the world,

to this desolate planet,

is difficult. .........

........... 

Minds blissfully blank forever,

rendering ....

Transparent souls not trusting themselves,

in the realm of physical manifestation,

doubting ....

Who were they in another life?

Will the timid soul seek another clumsy body to inhabit?

The cruel soul yet another cruel body? ...........................

...........

Shapeless dreams,

floating ....

In the detritus of cosmic dust,

expecting ....

this time purpose, new awakenings,

new illusions of an eternal present,

indifferent to the consequences, ....

new cycles of earthly confusions,

new lives of quiet desperation, ....

........... 

in the perpetual anonymity of the mundane,

transforming ....

once more into new images and forms,

for yet another adjustment to despair. ....

........... 

Ethereal players happily

dreaming ....

Even here at this end of the cycle,

at this end of the cosmos .......

To relive again the painful moment of birth,

to have again ambitions in the mornings,

echoing sun ....

desolation at nights,

echoing darkness ....

Still lost horizons - not different from those before,

offering new weaknesses to the world. ...........

...........

 To exist again in acts of self negation,

questionable purpose, unending boredom. ......

Lives dictated again by ceremonial delusions,

in trampled proportions of mundane duplicity,

against time and space, ....

in a trajectory path of false hope ....

And again, for lack of better judgment,

with new, bogus definitions and rules? ..............

........... 

With the clear point of transformation

arriving ....

Fugitive spirits of forgotten bliss,

defying ....

odds and consequences,

in the wrong hour of eternity,

descending ....

again into carnal reality, ....

to the moment of painful fusion,

into the physical manifestation of birth…

Working ....

their way through another mirrored presence,

with hope,

but often with horror and pity,

twisting, ......

in endless despair, ....

false facsimiles of another static metamorphosis,

and of all that comes in between

considering, ....

never to be repeated again,

never to happen similarly. ........

...........

Those loved, will love no longer,

Each moment lasting an eternity,

each eternity lasting but a moment. ....

The farewells and the goodbyes,

followed by another painful transformation from death,

to the beginning of yet another cycle. ......

...........

And how will life end - next time -

if they return again to this vacuum of false reality?

Where are the pluses and where are the minuses?

The invitation to do it all over again,

considering? ..........

Where will the renewed advantages be? ....

Where is the case argument for continuation? ....

........... 

Should a soul remain forever bodiless - as speck of light? ....

Can a soul refuse this journey back? ....

................

THE RETURN TO THIS DESOLATE PLANET?