“Pulvis et umbra sumus.”
“We are dust and shadows.”
~ Horace ~
Digitally enhanced image created from a photo taken in October 2021.
© 2021 nightpoet – all rights reserved
MY MOTHER’S ASHES
Categories: Photography, Poetry
Tags: Ashes, Azaleas, Cinders, Death, Digital Imagery, Dust, Father, Life, Mother, Perspective, Photography, Poetry, Powder, Voice, Waves
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“The body is not important. It is made of dust; it is made of ashes. It is food for the worms. The winds and the waters dissolve it and scatter it to the four corners of the earth. In the end, what we care most for only lasts a brief lifetime, and then there is eternity. Time forever. Millions of worlds are born, evolve, and pass away into nebulous, unmeasured skies; and there is still eternity. Time always. The body becomes dust and trees and exploding fire, it becomes gaseous and disappears, and still there is eternity. Silent, unopposed, brooding, forever.” ~ Rudolfo Anaya