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Poem

what is born must die … 
this we know but do not accept
in as embrace with vibrant nonchalance ~
no, let us admit it fellow souls
we are in truth truly afraid

we have seen birds in mourning …
majestic lions tear eyed when grieving
rain drops falling when skies are weeping

one by one fangs of death have wrenched away
family and friends who made us feel complete
we too will die, who then are we, we wonder

scriptures and fables offer not the taste
direct knowing of death that erases doubt 
to imbibe truth we enter time dissolved silence 
animating attention in the bardo of formlessness 
soul’s eye then beholds dead leaf of ego drop away

reflect oh hermit, do we not die with each exhalation 
at our core we know the next breath’s not promised
sleep is death yet we look forward to it each night
is not death then just waking up from this dream
why oh why do we cling to ephemeral illusions 

shrugging off death of form ~ death yet pursues
we die when voice of conscience is subdued
when lust, rage and envy are fires we fan
or a girl child is abandoned at the orphanage 
we die whenever ego opaques the light of our soul

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