Afterlife

Beside Herself

When my mom was passing out

She insisted that she be cremated alone

In a cinerator all on her own

In case her body and soul be entangled

With other people unknown

But we never know how it came out

What we got was half a pound of ash in an urn

Was that all of her, or a dab of a common burn

Why not mingle with so many a mate

Are her loved ones more intimate

Was her ex-life too perfect an state

For her into other beings to incarnate

That she wanna be herself by and by

Wouldn’t she wanna be a perennial tree

A butterfly, or a bird, that rejoice in free

If there were other choices of afterlife

Beside herself, just to make a difference

Afterlife

Some believe in eternal living heaven

Some in ever-on incarnation life after life

Some reserved their cells for clone

Some would freeze in liquid nitrogen

Waiting for awakening to a better world

IF Percy Shelley had been recovered from storm

Could Mary have revive him with lightning of love

What would afterlife be, if not a Frankenstein