You asked me-poem by Macey Webb

Halsband Kors You asked me if I think the soul is eternal.It's the central question in the entirety of philosophy, to your mind.It's full of grandeur, debate, speculation, pseudoscience, inference, divinings, and proclamations. And I sit here next to your hospital bed, wondering if we're not missing the mark.  Any shot may miss the mark.  Because that pain medication makes you sleep so hard right now, and I'm wondering. Is it more important that our bodies are mortal?If we correctly align our values based in the knowledge that time is ephemeral, relative, short as hell, and heavy,Does the philosophy of soul,Philosophy of mind,Become just an extension of the golden rule, because my body is as frail as yours in more ways than it is distinct, even today, while you sleep. Namaste, they say.Those pronouncers of other many great knowledges often prescribe this same return, to ground us into the earth, or try.But my head stays in the sky, looking down at this crawling antlike existence and attempting to always maintain compassion for the slow or fast death we all are in process of incurring. Poem by Macey Webb Drawing by Janne Karlsson