And then the next greatest irony.
You died.
And I am in the semi-circle of disreality
Insurrection and fallibility
The uproot, uproar, upshoot
Of human life.
Making meaning of what we do
And do not know.
Finding meaning in the ink of
Fractals and fractions,
The Great Big Questions of:
Who? And What? And How?
Never knowing why.
Why? Poor man’s question.
Atheist’s prayer.
Making meaning with pens and paper.
No better than kicking sand castles,
Battered shells, rocks and sand.
All of life in the hushing mouth–
Do. Not. Ask.
The disreality of death–
Better off now than
When you were “am.”
More alive now and–
Far further from “dead.”