After The Party's Over

After this party called life is over;
where does this consciousness go?
Is it destined to be under the clover;
or, scattered across new fallen snow?

The body, like your hair that was cut;
is of no more use to you;
and, if someone scoops your body up;
what can they get it to do?

A lifetime of cut hair is fruitless;
there is nothing else it can be;
even to its owner it’s useless;
it no longer has meaning to me.

There’s an energy that wraps around you;
giving the puppet, thoughts and voice;
a constructive creative force surrounds you;
allowing you to think, and have choice.

This energy being; where does it go;
when our body is no longer alive?
How does it separate; how does it know;
in order that it might survive?

Unlike the body; all awareness survives;
it can float like a memory; or coast;
still, it is to be tethered to future lives;
and driven to find that new host.

So, the party’s not really over;
merely leaves it’s physical vestments;
it’s energy’s not buried in clover;
it’s merely gone for refreshments.