My mind is all over the map as I age. Somehow, in all the clutter in my brain that comes from too many decades of frantic living, I get an intuitive glimpse of a past where I was me but not me, and a future where I am once again in another body. The soul, as I understand it, is not something with a best-before or expiry date.
riding the wind
no knowledge of destination
knowing only
there was a beginning
and at some unknown time
an ending of this journey