I relate to so much in your poem. These thoughts especially,

So I keep this story alive inside me...I tend to the soil, prune the branches
...the maps still have white spaces
and the compass, it only points
toward .... peace.

But not this:

We all assume forever

Never, not since I was a preteen. Maybe it was my Sicilian/Catholic upbringing--praying always for the dead. I've had most of my life an acute sense of mortality. Probably why I didn't become terribly acquisitive. What's the point? :)))