This Side Of Death

We all are, aren’t we, if we are reading this?

This brief moment of existence is all we know.

It seems so real.

It’s pains and pleasures so touching.

Wanting to hold on to the preciousness

that is so fleeting.

Carpe diem because there really is nothing else,

no legacy.

Even the ripples we make in the continuum 

become part of the continuum.

Nothing personal, no matter how 

much we’d like it to be,

the precious moments we’ll always

remember until memory itself is no longer.

No brass ring called God or heaven

or anything else.

“We just numbly don’t get there.”

a wise man once said.