After we die, the jaw bones go on grinning.
The skull empties itself.
Magnificent human eyes give up space
so the moon can look through them.
We humans do not look away
from our own faces decaying in varieties of mirrors.
We extend a hand in welcome, even to death
making nothing of what is already nothing.
I say all of us will falter, all of us will kneel,
and all be left standing.
I say there is a sky, blue with diamonds, coming down over us.
There is a singing in tongues only mountains understand.
There are hands of fire reaching out for ours.