Our bodies share in the wisdom of the earth
Because that is where we originate; we are of the soil
Is this body not just a synergistic mashup of the elements?
Propelled by sparks of electricity, nourished by all things transformational
Every breath its last until the next one comes
The earth ready to soak her back into it’s womb when it doesn’t

What if death is not the grief and sorrow we have always envisioned?
Our bodies are here, borrowing matter and energy from the universe to exist
I feel the truth of that under my skin and in my bones
When I am still with the earth I feel her wisdom, her gentle nurture
The earth is a patient, loving mother

She sacrifices herself so that we may practice living
Ever gentle with us, despite our constant thrashing of her
She knows that learning takes time, so she stands ever present in her revolutionary wisdom, even as she shows symptoms of our callous and greedy mistreatment
She speaks to us in the language of our bodies, in whispers and sensations, teaching us that we find ourselves in the soft spoken moments of reverence
And when we ignore her she speaks to us in benevolent violence, just as our bodies do

In the end, we’re all borrowing our lives from the ones that have passed before us
It is only right that we do our best to live well, and at some point to return our constituent elements better than we found them
Therein lies the selflessness of death, surrendering your vessel to be broken down to become the rudiments of all life, once again
Death is an ending, but perhaps not such an egregious one as we always imagined
Since it is only through death that new life can emerge