When we die
We sink back
Into that from which
We came
We reconnoiter
Our stuff
With that from which
We were delivered
And it takes
A bit of time
No one
Can be sure
How long
Because
Well
The process
Of reconnoitering
Starts with our rotting away from what we are now
Involves some process
Or another
Of our being reabsorbed into the Earth and her elements
Being redistributed
Here and there
And everywhere
Over that period of time
I am fairly certain
We cannot know
Ourselves as we are now
That is to say
There will certainly
Shortly after we die
Be an ending of neural pathways firing
And a stillness of thoughts
Even those that let us therefore be
And given enough time
Some of those elements
That were
Within us
Will certainly
Be without
What we now
Call us
And all of the elements
That we now
Call
us
Will
have
to
deal
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A
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And given
Even more
Time
As much as
random
Dissociated time
Needs
Elements
Of what we now
Call Us
Will be within
What we would now
Call other
Living things
Or, one living thing, viewed not through the lens of time.
As a poem
On an
Infinitely long
And strange
page