"You see, that's the trouble with this reincarnation business," she suddenly introjected. "People think reincarnation happens at the time of birth. Not so. Just because a person is given a new 'human suit' doesn't mean they're truly awake to it. And so, at least for now, we don't have a science that can measure when a reincarnation happens. You can live on for years and years in a body, unaware, and then, right smack-dab in the middle of a life that's already half-way along its course, poof! Here you are. You aren't who you think you are and you're here for reasons you don't yet fully comprehend."
Four decades leaning forward.
Skin stretching over bone.
Following a message that was planted long ago.
A drowsy lion chasing after mirages...until a cold and misty New Year night.
I’m sure I appeared to be a man climbing out of the wreckage.
I was a newborn emerging from a womb.
To learn more about the music of Jeffrey Ericson Allen, visit the Chronotope Project
(c) 2017 / Pure Land Poetry / Frank LaRue Owen (Wandering Stone Lantern) / purelandpoetry.com