the evening rose

Discourse With a Spirit

“Is there any life after this life?
Will I come back in this world?
Where will I go at the close of my show
In a form unseen, unheard?

“Will I meet my friends again
And will my memories last?
Or I will get an entire new set
Quite different from the past?

“Who’s the mathematician, that could
Universe so precisely create
That none from an atom to the stars that roam
From the programming could deviate?

“Why through light and darkness, He wove
A texture of time and space?
And why at all He produced this ball
From the void of nothingness?”

Though clues I got to the mysteries above
Contacting a dead man’s soul
And doubt not a bit that when I quit
My whole world will not fall

My ‘I’ness’ I will retain for ever
In shapes, my deeds would earn
My memories will stay in some queer way
And I in the world return

Yet the spirit could give no hint to me
Who runs this world and why
Itself too evolving, a lost poor thing
Was as ignorant as I