Fears

I was watching a program on television and a man with a microphone was asking passersby on the street what they were afraid of. Some said spiders, a few said snakes and others named a few more wee beasties, but most of the people said that they were afraid to die. They were afraid of death. I started to wonder: Is that why there are so many products out there to make a person look younger than they really are? Are they trying to defy death? Why can't they accept that they will age with dignity and grace? There are many religions, stories and legends that speak of death. In them death takes many forms such as an angel, a spirit horse, The Grim Reaper, or just a cold feeling that lays over them at the time of passing. There are also many different opinions on how death will come, but one thing they do have in common is this: DEATH DOES COME. No one can escape it. Kings to peasants, saints to the wicked will all meet death. No matter how far you run or how deeply you hide death will find you and no amount of cream or ointment will stop or change it. I also began to think of what I am afraid of. I am afraid of not living. Instead of wasting my time trying to save my life I would rather use my time to have a life. I want to live the way I want to with no holds barred. To live every moment and every dream to the absolute fullest. When death does come for me I want to look back on my life with no regrets and no remorse. I want to look back and smile because I will know that I lived MY way. I do not want to be haunted with ' I should have done this, I could have done this, I would have done this, if only...' I want to be happy with the knowledge that I did. I think perhaps if we all lived the lives we wanted, the way we wanted, then nothing would be left undone and no one would fear death because they would have truly lived. With all this, I wonder if death is really to be feared. I feel we should embrace it and celebrate it. We never know when death will call to us, today or tomorrow or even five minutes from now, and if that makes us treasure every moment and every person in our lives more and more in every day that we are given, then why should we fear death? Is fear and all it robs us of worth it in the end? What are you afraid of?

Longing

In times like this I feel a longing.
A pull inside of me.
A calling of another time.
I feel out of place in this day and age.
Outside of this advanced world with my wanting of days of old.
Outside of this world with my desires and beliefs.
Outside of this world with my heart, mind, spirit and soul.
Outside of this world.
My heart dances with a memory of another place.
A place from long ago.
I can not escape this wanting,
This urge to be somewhere I cannot be.
I long to have existed in another time.
A time of beauty and simplicity.
An age of mystery and superstition.
Of true love and far away fantasy.
My soul longs for these ancient days.
My spirit lives in memories of that life,
Though my mind cannot remember anything.
My desires peak and my imagination soars.
How I wish to live in those forgotten nights,
Those wished kissed days,
Where everything and anything was possible.
Perhaps my spirit is recalling a life I have left behind.
A life my soul was not ready to let go of.
Perhaps it was ripped from me by another,
Or even by my own hand.
I do not know many things,
But there is something I have no doubt of:
I live in the wrong place.
I exist in the wrong time.
I wish to return.
I wish to go home.