Note from the Author: I am in my third of three weeks on rotation for pharmacy school, which means I have little to no downtime. I don’t want to rush a post and publish something not up to my standard. Instead, I will be sharing some of the poetry I wrote in search of these deeper truths. This third one is called “The Song of the Ancestors.”

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Here begins the tale of all life.

From the onset of carbonic life
In this fragile plane of existence,
Life longed and yearned to be self-aware.

As the animals evolved through Time,
Coalescing to their present forms,
There emerged an ever-spanning force.

Memory preserved through chemicals,
Passed between countless generations,
Permitted the Mind to know itself.

The race of mankind, an infant then,
Emerged from the neurons of a past
So remote it may as well be gone.

But as we know, the past is present,
And the present is what is to come.
Thus, we are all those who came before.

We owe it to our genes, deep within,
To honor, remember, and carry
Their secluded memories with us.

Your father and mother before you,
And their two parents before them,
Are twigs in the sprawling tree of life.

Like droplets in the cascade of Time,
Each span bleeds into the next below.
Time wears ever on, erasing all.

But those memories can be preserved,
Their legacies kept alive and well.
Their voices echo throughout all Time.

Know yourself by knowing your forebears.

Though you spent eternity unborn,
You lived among all the stars above,
Atoms waiting to fall into place.

Society erupted ’fore long.
The world’s empires rose and fell
While your ancestors lived, learned, and died.

They dwindled in number, eight, four, two,
Until billions of years came to you.
The universe made itself for you.

Your body shall act as a temple,
Your hands the priests to tend to its needs,
Your first breaths the inaugural rites.

But the universe’s fatal flaw,
That tax on life by which all abides,
Takes its awful toll on flesh and blood.

For breath you are and breath shall you be.
Your breath will cease eventually,
And the seed will germinate anew.

And when death, that sordid rite, does come,
We may rejoice in conquering the
Crippling sting of annihilation.

The universe, to save creation,
Imbued the body with the spirit
Known as fith, the key to forever.

The unbound fith shall roam eternal,
Basking in creative glories
The cosmos birthed ever long ago.

But those who prostrate to wemme shall fall.

The purpose of life is to live it.
To take that away is to sever
Your sacred ties to the universe.

Beings that think want naught but to love,
But there walk among us those who hate
And strive to steal the essence of life.

The universe knows all in the end
That its own creations do believe.
There is no hiding from forever.

The agents of the ever-good caste,
That power, that force that fuels all life,
Will bring the thieving ones to their knees.

Thowe, Mull, and Mirth, manifestations
Of the will of the cosmos above,
Will strike down the Thieves eternally.

Weighed against the darkest of notions,
The Thieving Ones will bow to their sins,
Crumble beneath the sickness embraced.

Those good souls who live their precious lives
In awe and wonder and gratitude
Will have their place in eternity.

Where the body was so limited,
The spirit will be free, space and time
Bowing before their gracious sire.

And so, when the Thieves are disposed of
Forever after dark hearts speak true,
The cosmos will be cured forever.

The cruel hearts will be no longer.