Two Bags and a Rucksack

On a journey am I

From dawn to dusk

And yet again to dawn

Walking, trudging, moving all the time

Climbing over mountains, wading across rivers

Skipping through meadows, rolling down grass-hills

Through the forests, or in the city bright

I am always on this voyage

This life-expedition

With Two bags and a rucksack

My constant companions

The bag on the right contains my life

Some call it soul while others spirit

Pneuma, Geist, Chi or Brahman

It is you, me and the entire universe

From my bag, working in me

Energizing, expressing, living

The bag on the left contains my memories

Stories of all my journeys

Beautiful people I have met

Places I have been, the love I have shared

The kindness I have received

It is the many tales of the journey

The story of the spirit

Mine, yours, the chronicle of the universe

Drag I these bags with their precious treasures

I keep plodding from one morning to another

The rucksack on my back

Contains my earthly belongings

The things I call mine

House deeds, jewellery, travellers cheques

Money in many currencies, land and gold

All my possessions, in the rucksack, on my back 

Sometimes the bags get heavy

And my back gets bent

The memories turn horrid

The spirit cold and low

And the journey becomes a drag

But then the spirit rises again

Swells up with life and light

With the rising sun

Am game to give up all my possessions

My gold and my diamonds

The rucksack will I forsake

To beautiful memories more make

Memories are the history of the spirit

When all is gone, I am but my memory