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Chaos To Chaos, a poem

I tend to have this problem, wherein I am usually a firm believer in an afterlife and reincarnation, but sometimes - usually at night when I'm trying to go to sleep - I get worried and terrified of death, thinking "What if there is no afterlife? What if there is no soul and nothing happens to us at death but blinking out of existence?"1 Well, since my main Goddess is a Chaos Goddess, I wrote up something that started as an attempt to make a simple chant or mantra or something to reassure myself that, if that turns out to be the case, it won't matter then. But I had too many ideas to fit into one mantra, so I made an entire poem about it. And here that is:

“Chaos To Chaos”
By = Tempest Alexandria Arts (Fayanora)

From Chaos I came and to Chaos I will return.
“I” am a complicated dance of quintillions of tiny points of energy, and my soul is the choreographer.
When the choreographer departs and the dance is over, the dancers will join other dances.
We're all choreographers of our own dancing energy, the only choreographers we can know in this life.
“I” am a temporary pattern in the chaos, in a temporary world, in a temporary universe;
All of us patterns in the Chaos,
Ever changing from second to second,
All of us sand paintings in the wind.

From Void I came and to Void I will return.
My life is a pebble in a pond, making ripples, the only thing left of my life when I am gone.
I shall not fear death, for I am not real;
I am like a virtual particle blinking in and out of existence, in the grand scheme of things;
A virtual particle in a holographic universe, the Multiverse every bit as ephemeral.
All of it whispers heard in static,
“Objective reality” via shared programming,
All of it a hard drive in an EMP.

From Naught I came, and to Naught I will return.
I shall not fear death, for I am just a temporary tempest of what-ifs and uncollapsed quantum states.
I am a hurricane contemplating its own eventual landfall.
I am a raindrop watching the ground approach at speed, contemplating the sudden stop.
I am a single breath, from the lungs to the blood, contemplating being exhaled.
All of us lightning in a storm,
Gone as quickly as we appear,
And all the world is the storm.

From Change I came, and to Change I will return.
I am like Jupiter's Great Red Spot, in a constant state of stable chaos.
But like all things, the stability will fail, the tempest will fall apart.
We are never not Change, it is the only constant in life;
Even death is just one facet of Change.
All of us are hurricanes,
Complex, multi-layered, and doomed to landfall,
But spinning off descendants before we do.

From Death I came, and to Death I will return.
My life is a fire, my body made of the ashes of other patterns tossed like logs onto my fire.
When my fire goes out, I will be a log tossed on the fires of other beings,
My ashes recycled, remade, reused; Life and Death eternal dance partners,
Entropy and Enthalpy embrace like lovers on the dance floor.
Gaia's biosphere is the phoenix,
Dying and being reborn from its own ashes;
The biosphere is Ouroboros eating itself.

From Peace I came, and to Peace I will return.

~ ~ ~

1 = Note that I never worry that the afterlife is worse, like Hell or something. I either believe in my own version of the afterlife, or I worry death is final.

This was cross-posted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org/1281404.html
You can comment either here or there.

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