Original poem #90

Breaking Samsara

this 
 is the end
  of my days

even now
 i know

as i bear another 
 spun out star day
as my comforts drift
 like mists
and wisps of cloud 
 that dissipate and dissolve
  into oblivion

this poet is my curtain call
my redemption
my own and only
 spiritual ovation

i
 will not
  live again



*
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Author: Transdimensional Poet

Poet, Transdimensional explorer, fisherman.

5 thoughts on “Original poem #90”

  1. Sparse yet rich, as ever your words come together like a constellation. This curtain call, it could be the start of a journey as an awakened being.. every door faces two ways after all! I wonder, if there is a time when we can choose, we finally elect to return – for the first time – since ecstacy is a form of suffering, a path of love brings us back to reach out and serve those we love.. to make their burden ..light.. enlightens?

    Liked by 1 person

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