We may be perennial, but not undying.

We’re dead before conception,

inanimate after living.

Or, perhaps we’ll be sitting in a way station

where all transitions

of place and time happen,

and we’ll change into something

wonderful and fresh and new,

and more in line with our dreams,

as we travel to our renewed beginning

with past memories erased.

Yet, why wait until after death to do better?

Do we really need to wait

to bloom into what we want to be now?

By Linda Imbler

From: United States

Website: http://lindaspoetryblog.blogspot.com

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/limblerpoet