Jaunt

My jaunt is here, else I am naught,
A speck in the universe barely noticed,
Some warmth, energy that I emit,
The flesh is just for the time being,

If this is worthwhile, I do not question,
I could be simply what I really am,
Feed flesh to flesh, animal or plant,
Feel the un-felt, touch, hurt and loss.

One lets go the other goes on,
Till it is time to let go, to make way,
But the speck that one is, remains,
A spot of energy in the endless domain.

The jaunt is for peace, or to break it off?
The fire in me is undying, self satisfied,
I have no need for endless spearing for food,
I can just give up and get loose

The jaunt is for purpose, or none?
I had no path, no plan, no charted goal,
I just loomed in the nothingness and then alas,
The passion, the hunger, the craving, the pain

The jaunt of pain, of craving, of caving,
Of defying, defending, destructing, devouring,
Of needing, neglecting and not having enough,
Of wanting, of asking and then reducing to naught.