Poem for the week: "Poets and Artists"

Poets and Artists

There are no shortcuts to salvation,

because there is nothing to be saved from;

we are born to become what we’re meant

to be, and we will all get there eventually.

It will take more than one lifetime, to be

sure; but what does it matter in the end

if time is never-ending? But we don’t know

that, do we? And we look for shortcuts to

salvation because we can’t wait to get

there. We practice the Five Tibetan Rites

for eternal youth, and meditate for cosmic

awareness, garden until our hearts overflow,

and run marathons until we’re a hundred;

but in the end we’re the same soul as when

we started, only a little wiser, and we wonder

what all the fuss was about. Everything

matters, and nothing matters; it all depends

upon where we stand. But all the same we

have to live, and making choices is our

nature; that’s the game we have to play,

because we don’t know any better. Some

play it fair, and some don’t; but fair or not

it’s still a game, and every winner becomes

a loser and every loser a winner, but we all

become a little wiser. And we play and play

and play, and when we’re wise enough

we come back as poets and artists.