Old Jewish Cemetery

What is death, I ask myself? I see it as the universal mechanism which determines when a flower blooms, when a sheet has to dry and fall,and when a butterfly comes out of it's cocoon, when our cells have to die to regenerate or when they die completely. But when we agree on the place and time with that pot falling from a balcony or a stray bullet that street scuffle. None of this is really important. What does matter is answering the question: How do we want to live in the future, as a body? But we can not solve our present plan. And if we meet, maybe we can not stop the pot falling from balcony but if the stray bullet in the fray street.