A Prayer For My Human Family

This Sacred Verse is a contemplative poem on death, faith, and the limits of certainty, inviting you to rest in wonder rather than answers. Through poetic inquiry, it softens the mind’s need to prove, define, or defend belief, and gently redirects awareness toward love as the lived truth that matters now.

The reflection encourages tolerance, curiosity, and shared humanity, reminding us that the more love we embody in this life, the less fear we carry about what comes next. A prayer for coexistence, spaciousness, and reverence for mystery.

Transcript

This poem is called A Prayer for My Human Family Where do we go when the body is shed?

Like a layer peeling off,

We call it dead.

But what is death,

The biggest mystery of all?

No one can tell you once they answer the call.

Some people come back,

Near-death experience.

Sharing similar stories,

It certainly is mysterious.

Is this proof of another life,

A place beyond this,

That's infinite and loving,

A reality of bliss?

What is proof,

Anyway?

Evidence is personal.

One person's certainty is another's controversial.

More games for the mind.

Arguing and debating.

The existence of God leads to communities hating.

Needing their belief to be right,

Their path,

The way.

There's comfort here,

Perhaps,

Yet,

Mind caged,

You will stay.

Uncertainty intolerable.

To believe without proof.

Yet,

Isn't that faith,

Your own personal truth?

What if our truth was real,

As was everyone else's?

For belief creates reality,

And yet,

Love compels us to reach for each other,

Releasing judgment and hate,

Transcending mind games.

Oh,

May this be our fate.

The more love we have now,

In our physical reality,

The less we will fear our body's mortality.

And what comes after will remain a debate,

But of wonder and curiosity,

A mystery to celebrate.

This is my prayer for my human family.

May we pull it together and coexist happily.

Reviews

This speaks to me. It is a beautiful statement of my own prayer. Thank you so much.