Today's blog is another in which there are two versions of the same poem. This time we have a short and a long version. If I were to keep only one I would probably keep the long version but since they are meditations I feel like it is OK for there to be two versions of the poem. 

 

Version 1 – Long

 

In Death I cannot cling to who I am or was,
I will not know or see or hear or think,
If then nothing else but absolute peace
Why not now whilst I yet live?

And why this restless interest in
what I or others think that I may be?
And how does bitter struggle benefit
above of sweet release?

It comes compelling as a siren's song
But what might letting go let go amiss?
Would that I could see up to the end
of a path like this.

What lies beyond needing nothing?
Is it strength or insanity?
Is it accepting death or accepting life?

 

 

Version 2 – Short

 

In Death I cannot cling to who I am or was,
I will not know or see or hear or think,
If then nothing else but absolute peace
Why not now whilst I yet live?

Would that I could see up to the end
of a path like this.

What lies beyond needing nothing?
Is it strength or insanity?
Is it accepting death or accepting life?