Another Crazy

She said she knew me in a former life
Inwardly I scoffed at that
Another crazy
Why always me
I should have known
By the way she dressed
Like a neo hippie
Or a white witch
Though she was beautiful
I couldn’t do crazy
Did crazy too many times
Never worked out
I became crazy too
From the bizarre nonsense
And scatterbrained beliefs
But when she touched my hand
My mind reeled back to former lives
Like watching them in a movie
I saw she had been my wife
In the High Middle Ages, 1662

Bob Boyd

Author: BobBoyd

79, cancer survivor, work out 3 times a week, ride exercise bike 60 minutes daily. Kundalini energy rising since age 27, began writing poetry October 2023. Pisces, which may be why I have fish for pets, read and listened to many NDEs, Shared Death Visions, and Death Bed Visions, see death as the awakening of a lifetime and the ultimate relocation. View all posts by BobBoyd