I suspect
with thanks to my long-time now-gone friend, Bart Sarjeant
I suspect
we do live forever;
in fact know deeply
the truth of this:
flower, river, moonlight
each moves with the viewer
each waxes and wanes
depending on the season.
How then could we
be any different?
How possibly contained
forever
in this one form,
this one set of neuronal patterns,
this one small step
in the journey of the soul?
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