Rasbora fish swimming joyfully
In my ten gallon aquarium,
Eighteen in a school of them.
I’d like to know if any thoughts
Come into their little heads,
Aside from mating and eating
And where they go when dead.
I’d hate to think they just die,
And that is the end of them,
As if they were unworthy of
Some kind of rasbora heaven.
Maybe the Hindus have it right
They reincarnate higher,
Maybe into a dog or a cat.
But rather than having to go
Through many incarnations
Some with joy some with strife
Repeatedly facing uncertainties
Maybe horrors and miseries
I’d rather they stayed as rasboras
And went to a rasbora heaven.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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