Like So Much Dust
As the years accumulate, like so much dust,
Time makes its presence known:
through wrinkled skin, hair loss,
and an assortment of aching bones.
And you tick off the moments, days, months, and years,
as they accumulate: like so much dust.
Death is tethered to Life:
fundamentally, it's the competition of Life.
Birth gives birth to Death; they're conjoined:
one cannot exist without the other.
Tears spontaneously flow at both times, equally.
Death is not the end, nor the beginning!
A circle has no beginning or end:
and neither do souls.
We are souls: created in the image of God,
eternal, ethereal, and sentient.
Circles within circles, Birth and Death,
dreams within dreams: life death, death life:
words ingrained in our thoughts:
that explain reality as we perceive it.
Our view, limited by our conciseness,
labels Death as the end of everything;
including ourselves.
But is that true?
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