Sonnet #123

...end everything I know about the after-

life I learned from living. How the sun

will rise each day regardless; How the matter

is neither created nor destroyed; One

cosmos always moving, always using

all the bits, discarded bits, where black holes

pull them in and someday the exploding

Parts will scatter all the ashes of the soul

How giant trees collapse but life won't stop

It just renews, where fungal growth and insect

eating insects pull the life all out of rot

Until the soil is rich and saplings rise from it

I see how all the tribes, we build upon what's built

Until the bits of souls, our human mudsill silt