Death - Poem II

Death,

a step into the new life,

as my body reconnects with its sums

to see what my lives will make of my arrival to the new plane.

Nothing has to make sense,

it’s not entitled to.

And so on, I am, so on, I go.

To be with in time,

is to be apart of myself,

of the world,

of the moment.

That, which I transition,

seek to claim only the essentials,

but the complexities act like the ridges and ripples that can’t ever truly dissipate.

In some way,

in some form,

I am represented,

in that ripple, fold, comb.

I can be remembered for what I’ve represented all this time.

I am remember-able,

I am engraved,

I am immortal.

For I have existed as any has existed so I may be as like so many.

Truth is just this thing we use to serve the burning force on our chest - the part of us that we feel beats so hard we’re one of two in one.

The head, the heart, and the body that unionizes.

The Father, the Mother, the “Holy -”

The Creation, the Child, the Trinity

The Body overlapping the “- Ghost”.

For we can see through a reflection be the flickering flame the fuel the drives to live in a way that seems to ride us with a steering wheel in our hand.

We can go or we will be brought.

The choice is the feeling of flying the kite or the choice to allow kites to be whatever form it needs to take to get there.

Even if the choice was to fly the kite,

a destiny and goal is based on necessity and happenstance,

serendipitous to what we do is to guide us to our ultimate destination,

how we may contribute to our world as a whole.

Holy, wholly, and holey as this seems,

the spaces held are meant for more than we think.

Granted,

need us mind our cynicism.

Our reminder of lack of control,

that the control we apply,

while still in our heads, in control,

it’s still our ultimate desire to fill a need - no matter if it’s just for yourself.

And so on, I go, so on, I am.