Movement in my cells.

Blood in my veins.

Breath in my lungs,

from my balls to my tongue;

a feeling I cannot tame.

So this is what it’s like to be alive.

A biological enigma,

nurturing  this stigma,

’til the motions in the muscles

stop and I die.

 

Thoughts race through my mind.

Emotions and ideas.

Past, present, coming,

pain, hate and loving.

Psyche drives inside,

internal workings it provides.

So this is what it’s like to be alive.

Psychological mystery,

each little part of me,

’til my thinking ceases

and thoughtless, I die.

 

Beyond me

above or below,

there is energy.

Deep within

 from birth and sin,

to churchyard ghosts

and spirit hosts.

So this is what it’s like to be alive.

Soul that moves behind these eyes,

spiritual prophet speaks,

’till my spirit leaves

and soulless, I die.

 

Body, mind and spirit.

Blood to dust, to most high.

I’ve been shown by the wise.

This is what it’s like to be alive.

 

HG 1995-2000