Reincarnation

Poetry by Gary Every

On the school field trip to the museum

a little nine-year-old girl stands transfixed,

staring intently at paintings on a wall, unaware

that it was her soul which held the brush in a past life.

The class moves on, leaving a classmate behind.

The little girl smiles at her own masterwork,

mesmerized by the bright colors.

If reincarnation is real

then the soul of Beethoven

must be stuck inside public transportation, somewhere,

headphones over his ears,

listening to one of his own symphonies.

Has Beethoven’s tortured soul,

finally found happiness?

Imagine reading a novel

you yourself penned while inhabiting a different body,

and don’t remember writing,

while the words resonate deep inside your bones.

There are more humans alive right now

than all through history combined

which means the souls of most of us have not been

kings, queens, writers, musicians, or

roguish, rapscallion rebels leading lives of adventure.

Mathematically, most of us, most likely,

have been ants, earthworms, or dung beetles.

I believe I may have perhaps, possibly,

been a grasshopper for thousands of lives in a row.

which does not sound too bad to me.

Imagine leaping, soaring above the tall forest

of grasses and flowers, sailing the wind,

momentarily escaping gravity’s grasp,

and flying directly towards the sun,

before returning to Earth,

leaping again and again.