Death is extinct

If I could give to you this frame of reference-
I would be stealing the one thing you were gifted.

This is a frame of reference that is empty;
Empty of concepts, forms, ideas, desires, aversions.

Here, the wind has a purpose; The day has lost it's course.
No destination, yet everything you wanted will be there.

This is where you are safe from other's ideas.
Here, the moment puts death into extinction.

This form you call hand, this idea you call mind-
Cannot grasp this nirvana, nor intellectualize it.

The clouds hold the answer.