If people are recycled,
does it happen for animals too?
Do animals, turn into people
and people into animals?
If I'm going to eat dirt
when I die,
Will my flesh sync with nature
will my veins spread roots into the ground
will my nourish the plants
laid above my grave
will my skin turn rough as bark
and will my eyes become the top of the tree,
watching over humanity?

Can I become the ocean;
the salt in the sea
would disinfect the old wounds
I've carried way too long without
taking proper first-aid.
Will the water
wash away all lines of worry
and my hair follow the currents
I wonder,
if it would be the blackest of seaweed.

Are things ever new?
Or have we always been this old
have my eyes always looked this old
I have always found it crazy
how similar elders are to babies
the only difference comes from wrinkles on skin
telling stories of life
when beginnings,
didn't seem so close to endings.

How long have we been spinning,
how much time,
have we been spending, wasting?
The road seems straight
but the world is always cycling
How many times have our lives,
just seemed like circles?
Do we ever stop?
Or, have deaths
always been another life given
is life, always living?