The Soul Doesn'T Know If It's Dying Poem by Mike Finley

and has no anxiety on that account.
If you were to say to it,
Do you know you will lose everything you have,
life, pleasure, fulfillment,
it might let out a skull-cracking yawn.

Nothing we say makes sense to it
yet it tolerates us and the delusion,
we call the unarguable truth,
but it doesn't call anything
which is the rudest denial of all.

It doesn't care the way we care
And yet when soul is within reach
it peers into us like a face from beyond
not stupid like it usually is
but knowing beyond all that we know

And it says I kiss you and I greet you
from the deepest dark of earth
where things that were together forever
breaking into the crumbs of what they are
and the while is ever whole