atoms

we are a transference of atoms
from one allocation to another,
for eternity.
or at least until matter
exists,
we do.

pieces travel internally,
externally, within and
throughout our
atmosphere.

they do that like
we feel compelled
because our atoms
shift and
decide to make the chemical reactions
that it takes to
feel.

and so,
in death,
another transformation
occurs.

where the universe decides
it has another tree to fuel
with our carbon dioxide.
another lump of steel to form
from our iron.
another thermometer
to make from our mercury
and perhaps,
another life to create
from ours.

november 10 2008 / 11:41 am

(written in the Oxbow United Church, in front of the open casket of Evelyn Mae Banks, my maternal grandmother, the morning of her funeral.)