A Time to be Born And . . .

Yes, we evade the inevitable, the very
thought of which is anathema to our soul.
Why would we not? We value existence and
life is all we have familiarity with, its solid
comfort and the constant introductions to
variations on nature's thematic realities
induce us to prefer the familiar and neglect
what threatens our comfortable equilibrium.
We evade nothing in fact. Death will beckon
when it will decide to crook its bony hand
in our direction. In the meanwhile we pursue
life in all its fascinating dimensions, admire
what nature has given us, endure what we
cannot appreciate, and forge on into the
future. Yes, as we grow older thoughts creep
unbidden into mind and they linger, dark
shadows on the certainty of the future. We
think at times of how ordained the inexorable
trajectory is, how repetitive, how cyclic
and we wonder why, though we know the
how if not the when. The puzzle teasing our 
minds is just that; our minds. What becomes 
of them? As our bodies wilt and decompose 
and the brain ceases its functioning where 
wanders febrile, dislocated minds, pray tell?