Rough thoughts on ash
Carried by forces
moving air, swelling tides
Hardly weighs, it has no plan
where to land
Some swirling remains from the dead
Ash
has an ancestry almost as far as the universe
chances an existence of afterlife:
the deceased come together
In an eyeblink, they collide
roll over, brush against, skirt past each other
and disperse into the vastness
once again
Motions free from emotions
annihilate selective remembrance from their ancestors
The bondage of civilisation