The same but different

In a sense everything was the same.
In a sense everything had changed,
but life just continued on all around us,
oblivious, as normal.
Everybody was doing routine still,
the daily grind.
We wondered about this in our minds,
we the ones left behind.
Our pain touched not the indifferent world.
I heard a song playing on a recurring loop.
I did not know the group.
It was not playing on my radio,
neither social media, nor tv.
It was not playing over at the neighbors.
Instinctively I sensed it was playing from the other side,
the other side of life, but who was the DJ over there.
I could hear the music but not everyone would.
Choosing a coffin feels so unreal. There really is no scale.
You know I think tears rise and fall
on the family frequency over here,
and the vibrational flow over there.
A balancing equation in the water and the ether.
Body water and pineal crystals defying all human meters.
Once out of your body, free beyond emotional teetering.
Alive, more alive than you have ever been, on the other side.
No flesh and blood on that dimensional ride.
What a full bore world simulation.
A larger than life stimulation.

Only for your eyes to close and
immediately you awaken to no physical limitations.
Awake to see you had been half baked and raw,
as your self-illusions burn away like straw.
In the fire called life we are fully cooked,
To have your name inscribed in the eternity Book.
I could still hear the cry in their voices.
As our eschatology informed our grieving choices.
Telling me they were still alive on the other side
and happy, happier than they had ever been over on this side.
Besides, I was riding on joy’s rising tide.
It poured and poured into my cup time after time.
Sweeter and sweeter, each tear filled kiss sublime.
The red figs were ripening on the trees
and young bananas you could see.
The guys were selling golden plums at the intersections.
The pomegranate blossoms were beautiful,
the young pomegranates with shining complexion.
The cherries deep red, a sweet, sweet natural med.
The birds never stopped singing, my phone kept ringing.
The sun set and then rose and it was another day.
Then I looked and we had gone a long, long way
and no one had a lot to say.
Now it was silence who the music would play.

CI-43061903740 Knight Truelove poems