What waking waits in death? This godlost earth,
though beautiful, is fraught with grief and pain.
The tortured trek to know one's inner worth
at best suggests a grace we can't sustain.
Cosmologies abound but none convey
the guarantee that what's to come redeems
the tethered years of spiritual decay
spent stoking cold belief in lieu of dreams.
The Question of the Age, "Why am I here?"
bedevils not, religious thoughts of men.
If that were so, real virtue would be dear,
and path philosophies like Tao and Zen
would pilot minds and hearts beyond ji-haad
where dogmas clash, to know the Self as God.