Submitted 2 months ago by fossilesque@mander.xyz to science_memes@mander.xyz
https://mander.xyz/pictrs/image/ba52f433-196a-4d7e-afd4-c3c72d5471d3.jpeg
Beautiful.
Identity is just something our brains invent to better make sense of the world. It doesn’t exist as anything other than a thought. You are the universe and the universe is me. The only thing that goes away when anything “dies”, is the illusiory and self-imposed border between the “individual” and the rest of it all.
Yeah we’re like waves in an ocean that break, recede, and are re-formed. I do kinda miss my dead family members tho.
Goddamn onion ninjas…
My sister read this at my nan’s funeral. To help her not cry I practiced it with her as a rap song and did beat boxing for her every time she practiced. When she got up to do the speech I did a b.l.o.o.d gang hand sign at her and she laughed instead haha.
Nature is poetry.
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Um, ackschually…
The flickering of them in the atmosphere is her so it’s just justified enough for a poem
So… Chickens = zombie dinosaurs? /s
do not stand by my grave and weep
stand by the grave of margaret thatcher and piss
fartsparkles@lemmy.world 2 months ago
I love the indentations and line breaks of the original when first published:
Do not stand
By my grave, and weep.
I am not there,
I do not sleep—
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints in snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle, autumn rain.
As you awake with morning’s hush,
I am the swift, up-flinging rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the day transcending night.
Do not stand
By my grave, and cry—
I am not there,
I did not die.
— Clare Harner, The Gypsy, December 1934
dditty@lemm.ee 2 months ago
Beautiful prose, thanks for sharing fartsparkles@lemmy.world
Kellenved@sh.itjust.works 2 months ago
This is poetry not prose
RebekahWSD@lemmy.world 2 months ago
This is what my mother wants me to remember her by when she goes.
It hurts.
fartsparkles@lemmy.world 2 months ago
I’m so so so sorry to hear that but I hope you can find some warmth in knowing ahead of time a poem that means a lot to her and that you can hold on to and always remember her by.
My heart goes out to you.