When death comes
Does it come aas friend
Like bringing, an at times,
Turbulent voyage to its end,
So that molecules dissipate
Drift, travel wide and afar
In time to merge to become part
Of the birth of a new star.
Is that then eternal life,
A flowing, recurring situation
Where all matter becomes part
Of a constant circle of creation.
Does the consciousness cease
Like an exhausted battery, drained
Of every grain power so that
No continuity can be sustained.
An abrupt and endless slide
Into a nothingness of deep
Featureless unknowing, like a
Bottomless dreamless sleep,
Or is there a dormant spark
Waiting to be fanned back,
A unique creation
On a new life’s track.
Does the old, unknowing,
Maybe in aeons on,
Morph into the new with
No recollection of what’s gone.
Is that life after death
In some convoluted way,
Or unconnected events
On a newly dawned day.