Our ultimate frontiers, of course, are death
As well as birth: the boundaries of our breath,
The bourn that spirit crosses fore and aft,
Forgotten in the lethargy it quaffed.
The water of oblivion souls drink
Before their journeys here unlocks the link
To memories of former lives and where
Home is when souls rerarify to air.
Yet some of us while in our human moil,
Before we shuffle off this mortal coil,
Regain the memory of former lives
And learn the goal toward which each spirit strives.
No, I won’t tell you what’s our destiny,
But if you seek within your soul, you’ll see.