from A Litany on the Death of my Body

This is just my body.
It is just a machine.
It is only a vehicle my mind
which is myself.
My self is energy.
My self is transcendent.
My self is beyond the physical.
My mind, which is me, remains whole.
My mind remains unbreakable.
My body is just a machine.
My body is not me.
Only my body is fragile.
My body is not me.
My body is dying.
I will remain.
My body is a shell.
When the shell dies, I will shed the husk.
When it dies, it will rot.
It will be a thing of autopsies and donation.
It will turn to dust and fertilize the earth
the way my father's will.
The way my father's father does and so on and so forth.
But not my mind.
My mind goes on.
It is the essence.
My mind slips into the ether leaving in its wake
nothing but unsaid good-byes.
My mind, which is myself, remains constant.
I am a constant.
I exist.
It is only my body that ages and dies.
I continue.