New World (Part 7) – A Poetry Journal

3-1-22 – 10:22 a.m.

I can’t get Russia and Ukraine off my mind. Nightmares of nuclear missiles in the sky. Images of urban warfare. All these journalists saying things will never be the same, the world has forever changed. Perhaps this is so. Impacts are indirect. It’s more the ambient threat and fear. It’s a psychic kind of pain, like a telepathic connection to world suffering.

I enjoy my job but need a break. Too much connection to the internet, constantly writing, researching. No time to just be. Went for a walk yesterday and saw a beautiful, large dog, possibly a Great Dane. It looked like a horse striding majestically along the city sidewalk with his owner. Still cold, but spring will be here soon. The city will bloom and awaken, no longer fearing the virus.

Thinking about rebirth, reading The Tibetan Book of the Dead. So many ideas swirled around. Funny how different cultures have such a dissimilar paradigm. My Catholic background tells me there are two options, possibly three: Heaven, Hell, Purgatory. But could there be something else? Rebirth, taking on a new life and new consciousness, transmigration of souls?

At any moment, this could all end. I forget this. We all probably do. We’re like sleepwalkers sometimes. And when we do actually sleep, our dreams tell us the things we dare not think of in daylight hours.

2 thoughts on “New World (Part 7) – A Poetry Journal

  1. Catholic upbringing here too. Fascinated exploring other faiths and spirituality. My universe expanded exponentially after reading Bhagavad Gita. I should take time to explore other world treasures like Tibetan Book of the Dead.

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