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From a physicist’s perspective, a person is never really gone. They’ve just changed forms. The energy and particles that make them up have disorganized, merged back with the world, united with nature in cycles that are eternal.
The true form of reality is not a loop and not a continuum; not a volley between the cause and effect of now and then; not the pleasant idiocy of a path between two predetermined points. It’s a lace, intricate and infinite, woven through all things.
When I see the bees, I see the shimmering tracks in the air upon which they flow. Like ghostly threads of starlight.
