At the top of my list, of course,
is breath, but my next best friend
is death. They walk me, teasing,
loyal life wants to live
escorted in the arms of lovers
dancing in the flavors love
layers. Naming every birth
we create separation illusions
with our powerful beliefs
that sweep us past and future
rocketing by the song-now.
Birds chittering through oldgrowth
forests sound the alarm as we
play foreigners, our roots forgotten
we emerge from trees
and soil, composted
through uncountable millenia.
We chirp until named, we spread
our wings in arrogant denial
a flurry of greed to clothe ourselves
with what we buy in fear of
our imminent demise. Missing
the call to shine, eminent
moment of this particular voice
in this astral alignment.
When we walk in peace with our death
unafraid, we open up the stranglehold
past, let go of the predetermined
future at last, the patterns blown
in our explosive joy.
Death isn’t lurking, looming, it’s coming
for you now in deep orgasmic waves thrumming:
Our only prerogative, let’s be clear,
is to be alive right now, right here.