The Script of Our Lives

The script of our lives.
Bears some things that lay hidden.
Ever unfolding.
Borne from the womb to the tomb.
Imprinted in our psyche.

The psyche — our home.
It has so many mansions.
Our home and cocoon.
Of which we are conscious.
And yet remain unconscious.

Our home and cocoon.
Where we are all located.
Native residence.
From which we came — to return.
An ouroboros journey.

Life is a journey.
The journey of the psyche.
Ever unfolding.
From the dawn of creation.
Sun, moon, and stars in union.

Life is a journey.
With many transformations.
Never unceasing.
From one cycle to another.
A book without an ending.

What seems like the end.
Begins some other stages.
The chrysalis stage.
Just like the caterpillar.
Transformed to a butterfly.

The script of our lives.
Though seemingly predestined.
Requires Free Will.
And all our dispositions.
To provide it with meaning.

At its unfolding.
The script is not a blank slate.
Our parents formed it.
It has some composition.
Waiting for our completion.

Steady unfolding.
With chapters and with verses.
Is each person’s life.
That comes along with glitches.
As tasks for us to battle.

Our home, then, is the psyche.
Ever unfolding.
No ending, no beginning.
Our native cocoon.
Where we depart — and return.

At our departing.
Is pause for transformation.
At psyche’s calling.
With chance of new unfolding.
Again — to seek completion.

The script of our lives.
Whether long or whether short.
Is ours to fulfill.
Divinely crafted for us.
Ours to mold — each breath we take.