Cremated Poem by Chinwe Robert

Standing on the summit and letting it drift,
the last of my memories carried away by the wings of my soul.
And so it floats, weightless and directionless,
yet it floats
past mountains high and boundaries wide
scattered aloft across nations.
And aye, it settles on waters still,
absorbed, it sinks to the bottom,
left untouched, no more in existence.

Lying in a crevice, and seeing it burn,
the last of my self, purified by flames of my soul
and so it crackles, the wood and I, touching the roof
and breaking the ceiling
a perfume to natures wild
and aye, it is collected as ash in a can
filled with tears and dust
left untouched,
no more in existence.