A World For My Ashes

by Christopher Collingwood

When my ashes grow tired

of the day’s since past;

and my name bequeathed to

the lasting stone -

take my remains to a distant world,

one so strange and unfamiliar;

that never in my dreams

would I have found such a place.

Then bury my ashes

deep within the ground,

or what may exist in such a curios land;

a mucus trap, a helium stream,

the inner ear of a drifting giant.

Give my ashes to the moment,

but say no prayer,

no words of remembrance;

nothing to disturb the will of change.

Then hopefully – with patience,

and the instinct of nature;

a new beginning will take a breath,

an essence will stir,

and something will grow.

Perhaps the first few hairs

of a giant sand fish, or a tentacle

of a billow squid, as it floats into the

upper atmosphere; or maybe even an

eight-foot tall Ge’ve’gee traveller,

with burnt orange skin and sapphire eyes;

who walks on six legs,

catching particles of perception

in the rhythm of his hands.


Who seeks only the will of mood,

and the desire to temper curiosity –

with no need for purpose, or the

scholar of time.

Finding no greater pleasure,

then lying in a swarm of hairy

singing worms, as they resonate;

or searching through the remains of a

giant mind cluster, to watch light refract

off dying neural crystals.

Not consumed with goals or

the limits of reason; but accepting the

senses and the chance of discovery;

knowing what exists within life,

offers more concern then what abounds

beyond it.

Until his body had grown old and

fragile, when the days remembered

became enough to fill the

dreams of another lifetime.

He would make his final journey

to the Cave of Summons,

and watch the eternal funeral dance

of the immortal Zang-ga plant;

while his body slowly fell apart

in strands of fleshless wonder.


Floating across the world in harmony,

to return in gratitude

all he had experienced;

celebrating the truth of life,

and leaving nothing for a chosen

name; nothing for regrets;


not even ashes for the passing of time.


Christopher Collingwood was born and raised in Sydney Australia. He completed university in Sydney and graduated with a degree in business studies. Chris has devoted his spare time to writing, with works published in Outposts of Beyond, Illumen, Neo-Opsis, and various other publications.

Poetry by Christopher Collingwood:

"A World for My Ashes" June 2020

© 2020 by Utopia Science Fiction

  • Facebook
  • Twitter