Where we go when we die

Where do we go when we die? I mean, our spirit, our likeness, our true form? I figured it out. Natives have known it for centuries. They build totems out of it.
Up in the North, where the trees are uncut, where they blend together, branches over branches, reaching for sunlight and air, that is where we all go.
You can see it when you look into those trees during the daytime, relax your mind and you can pick out the shapes. Here is a Lion, here is a Ram, there is an otter, a fisherman, a poet, an artist. All creatures that have lived on this planet are represented here in perfect harmony. Some carry swords of protection (fallen logs), some have shields to ward off evil, some are part of the rock and seemingly impenetrable.
You can stare for hours into those trees and see entire families, animals, bugs, fish humans all in existence together, beautiful and harmonious. A natural representation of what they were, fleeting, as a gust of wind can change them, a year of growth changes them again. Like a pool of infinite souls pulled from the earth and on display. I hope to end up there one day.