Cremation Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Cremation

My body
Dear hands, feet, abdomen
Let us sit
Let us talk
What am I?
What are you?
You are I, I am you
Non-alone is something
We won't die, we'll convert
Soul is air or divine or unknown
(Whatever)
And body, piece of flesh, with some bones
(Forget nerves and the veins; they are the dependents)
Soul never has claimed for commerce, for place or some farm
But body:
"I need milk, I want food, I must sleep, it is hot, let me walk."

Now divorced
Soul has gone
Corp's behind

Cremate; Burn; Bury
What is what; which is right?
In bottle, in a jar, or in grave
All's same; forgotten after a while.
Why then fight Sophocles; Africa, Ebola?