This year has been particularly death-heavy. Family members, family of friends, friends of friends. So I've heard a lot of invocations of spiritual/religious ideas to deal with the certainty and finality of death. However, sometimes I think children have it right. Running around, carrying on, not really understanding what's going on, and not trying to. Here's a poem about that.
Universal play
Heaven has gained an angel.
Unless you don't believe
in heaven or angels.
Then, the earth has gained
a body. Unless you
burned the body.
The sky has earned some smoke.
You should never mistake
the flyaway ash
as the dusty, pigmented
sidewalk chalk
thick in children's hands.
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