I’ve heard it said many times before,
That life has no point and that therefore,
People are dust and to dust they return;
And there is nothing more.
I refuse to believe that this is right,
And I’m probably a fool to hope outright,
That people have spirits, and spirits they’ll be,
When on winds their dust takes flight.
You are the first and the last, in the end.
You exist and there is no need to defend…
Your reason for being, or what makes you special;
For your life is a miracle, my friend!
In all the universe. In all time and space.
There will only ever be one you with that face:
To feel the sun, and to ponder the stars.
A precious new form of the perplexing human race.
K. Aldaya, 6/29/15
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