Ashes and Pine Seeds ****Bios Urns are funerary urns made from biodegradable materials that will turn you into a tree after you die.*** When the day comes where my body does not toss and turn awake, do not dress me in a tuxedo seen by family for the first and last time. I am useless when preserved whole, stuffed in a box too expensive to be what it is designed. Mix this skin and bone with dirt some look at me as, disgusted without knowledge of how gardens are the diamonds to manure’s coal. Stuff me in an urn that decays unlike plastic. Pine seed surrounded by my burnt bits, I move back into the womb, wait for water to break again. I will be reborn: Leaves bright in their green, bouncing extra light back to the sun. Light blue skies with a white cloud or two. Seasonal change still come where I strip naked, past lives growing orange and brown before they fall off. This weather will pass, allow me to rejuvenate so long as my trunk isn’t hoisted from the soil. My death must continue my work: to shred this body for the growth of another’s nourishment. To bring oxygen into space I occupy.
Posted on: Tue, 01 Apr 2014 21:46:06 +0000
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