Cosmic dust…
a poem about finding peace in the inevitable.
Lately I have been obsessed with death. Not so much the inevitability, but what comes after. I am afraid of not existing, of existing eternally some place terrible, or drifting endlessly through a deep black nothing - concious of the emptiness of it all. But we all die, don’t we. It’s the one certain thing in life. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Maybe our disconnection from nature is what’s truly absurd. When my naked toes curl deep into the soil, when my lungs breath deeply of the air, and stars, and sky - I feel the call of my ancestors reverberate in my bones. Every molecule that exists within us, was born in the beginning - part of everything that has come before, returning in the end to everything that will become. The divine unknowable force of the universe, that which we call God, waits patiently for our acceptance, our understanding- that life and death, death and rebirth, is written in our atoms. We are never alone.
