On The Top Of Haleakala

No questions can be answered about life.

Answers come from people,

just like myself.

They don’t provide the justification

no matter how much data and knowledge they possess.

The sun rises from the east,

but who, or what, made it that way?

The colors of the sky are creamy pink and merigold,

as I conjure up whatever I can of the ignorant bliss from childhood,

even in the 30 watts of the wind that was carried from the sea.

Life is full of curiosities, shouldn’t it stay that way?

I continue to talk about my own afterlife.

Casually.

Why do I frighten myself?

I know time is short, but it can lengthen as well.

Can it?

It would be inauthentic of me to try and investigate life’s biggest conundrum,

People’s demise.