Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem


If I can choose my time to die
winter is my first choice
although I can imagine
any season could be good
for releasing ego’s hold
on troubled ecoEarth-engagement,
should there be such a long-named thing
when I choose my AnthroPrivileged time to die.

I would walk out through Earth's sacred trees
to caress and bid farewell
and thank them for this air we breathe
for their patience with my cut-down ways,
I would breathe my richest breath
into their root systems
as I walk on through 
fading nests of deep sleep bees
breathing Life and Death
through rich swells of mad elation 
rooted inside blustered breeze.

I would lie down on snow
under falling flakes 
blanketing this final rest
gathering owl’s rich medicine
listening to her echoing 
WhoAreYou
night-ride voice
twinkling back into this miracle nest
of snow-flaking stars
twinkling we kisses
us misses 
through our gusty path

Lying down 
as cold 
and ego-bold 
as silent snow.

Co-gravitating
co-arising
timeless
Earth-membered
conscious choice of times we live
to give 
as freely as Earth’s melting glow.

Not not old and cold
timeless flowing 
eco-fancy 
circle dancing,
snow replacing silent stars, 
Great Adventure’s rebirth light

Not bright
not might
not night
not sight
not fight
not left
or right.

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