Bag of Bones


Everyday I’m thankful

To be the lucky pilot

Of a living, breathing human body

It may be temporary

Someday we’ll put this flesh

In to the ground again

But a year or ten or fifty if we’re lucky

Is a long time

To sample and taste

All the myriad flavors

Of experience and light

We can tell it to make war

We can tell it to make love

And us horrible menfolk

Can plant a seed

So the divine life givers (women)

Can carry another creature

Of our making

In to this world

And another lucky soul

Can keep the cycle alive

And yes, they say life is pain

But if it wasn’t for the bad

We wouldn’t savor the good

So enjoy your stewardship

Of this bag of bones

It is truly a magical gift

At some point in my incarceration it dawned on me how spectacularly lucky we are as humans to be blessed with this machine we control. It can be a temple for some or an amusement park for others but when you wake up to the endless possibilities of modern life and the rapid way technology is evolving it really is a special thing to be a living thing. And what a profoundly beautiful thing to do to nurture a new soul and ensure they have a good time on planet earth. That’s the sort of legacy that is a worthy statement to be remembered for eternity.

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