The hand is writing here now.

The brain is composing this poem.

This body craves food, sex, materials, consuming, answers, permanency.

Gently, let go of desire, the body and mind are here.

Gently, let go of desire, the body and mind are now.

Religion or secular, whatever works.

We are all ending sometime.

So why not do it with style:  no harm but mindfully.

Aren’t we all mentally ill?

Don’t we all want to live the best way we know how?