Birth Day

Is today really my birthday?
Having lived through many earth days
Each body my clothing, I borrow
I know I will shed on the morrow

I live then wither
To the end my body quivers
What colour my body will be next time, I wonder
Is this a matter to ponder?

My body as clothing I shed as time permits
What time is I cannot admit
Living through birth days we cannot defeat
Accepting this process itself is a feat

Black, white, Brown or pale
Colours which decide on which path I tread
What colour would I choose?
Frivolous thoughts beyond any use
The Cosmos deciding and ordering our paths is World News

Speed up my learning I want to do
Will this reduce my Birth Days I’d like to know
Pairing a child with a loaded gun this will do
I see much to learn but Life won’t be hurried
Experience and wisdom don’t come with scurrying

Birth Days I learn is an evolutionary rite
The spirit world rejoices the passage of each birth
Earth always mourns its loss it sees a curse
Yet to realize this rite is growth preserved



6 thoughts on “Birth Day” by aturmercy (@aturmercy)

  1. You;ve been thinking.

    1. I sure have…what else can man do.

  2. True talk. Birth and death are rites. Nice poem.

    1. Thanks @gooseberry. They are rites of passage. I appreciate your comments.

  3. spiritual and thought provoking. Makes you have a re-think on reincarnation huh? what is a true birthday then? nice one @Aturmercy.

    1. Thanks Dotta. I appreciate your comments.

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