Sometimes I am spirit,
and sometimes I am mind.
Sometimes I have ever been
and cannot see it
sometimes I can clearly see
that I have not.
But annihilation is a hard abstraction,
and I know not whether to pity
or admire those who have embraced it
as their beginning and their end.
Perhaps I will live forever
in these words;
perhaps they will die with
my consciousness when I go.
if my parents had not met,
would I live life as someone else
or simply never have existed at all?
I fear I wouldn’t exist
with this only as my consolation:
I would not know I didn’t
and will not when I don’t.
2 thoughts on “Conciousness”
The real question is whether you would be the same person if you had been born to someone else… is it nature or nurture that makes us who we are?
Interesting that you say that, because I just barely published another poem along those same lines!