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Immortality
by
Loyd David Burt
Let me take you on a journey familiar to us all,
a journey deep inside yourself, behind that abstract wall.
Let me remind you of the moment when you withdraw into that shell,
of the feeling of embarrassment, or the agony of Hell.
Let me take you to that sanctum, deep within your mind,
let us both explore the recesses, let’s see what we can find.
Picture concentration, an abstract in itself,
but once you start the process, take a thought from any shelf.
Now as that thought evolves, forming pictures in your mind,
does that voice within you provide commentary on what you find.
Does it argue, does it reason, does it confuse your mental state.
Does it worry and annoy you, especially when you are running late.
Does it nag on big occasions when things are not going right.
Does it sometimes become over active when you want to sleep at night?
Shall we call it conscience, many people do,
does it goad you into starting things, then will not let you see them through?
Those memories in that sanctum,
catalogued upon a shelf
are videos of where you have been,
or what you have done yourself.
Secrets that you will not share, least your sanctum walls be breached,
secrets that you cannot share, for fear of being impeached.
We all have guilty secrets, little things we want to hide,
we dare not take them from the shelf, for in whom can we confide?
I challenge you to take one out, examine it at length,
then impart it to a ‘friendly’ soul, have you the morale strength?
To raid that inner sanctum and impart the secrets stored therein,
even in confession, would be a mortal sin.
For who dare empty all the granaries, expose every thoughtful grain,
who could endure the silence and not be called insane.
We need that inner sanctum where we can meet ourselves,
and if the need arises, take a memory from off its shelves.
Now if you are really honest, you will agree with what I have said,
even if you dismiss it, it’s now an archive in your head.
When I took you on that journey to see what we could find
I was really planting memories in the recesses of your mind
and one day without great effort,
they will spring to mind,
you will see, for once you recall these written words,
you will but think of me.
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