I smell the damp earth.
The scent rises into my nostrils.
Under this pine rain drips down
Dimpling the ground all about me.

Some distant bird flutters up
Making a whirring, whistling sound.
It echoes across the field of thoughts,
Brings me back to my reality.

That truth is sharp and pain-filled.
It stealthily digs under your skin.
You are gone, but life continues.
Tell me it does.  Your answer, "Life,

It is in the scent of earth,
The whirring of the distant bird,
The dimpling of raindrops on soil.
And in each molecule of the universe."