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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required He said he planned to freeze to death. Did he mean to have his body frozen? Stored to hatch again later, leftovers out of time's deep freezer of waiting. No, not that. He responds with undeniable dismissal, this would not be his investment in Earth's living future plans. I hope and grope that I will choose when to freeze my death. I recall a penumbral hope stepping out into Connecticut's perfect nor'easter, stern at onslaught, like pilgrims in nearby lands of granite states and histories dragging more gracefully down and out into lacey fluff floating toward quintessential kitschy views Framed from inside windows by silently flickering orange flames licking coal black constitutional wood stove New England casual propriety, radiating waspish welcome warmth, but with appropriate restraint While I cautiously step onto my snow-covered front porch, evenly blanketed front to back, as if devoid of shingled Cape Cod roof. This would be a good connected way to die. Shoveling snow in Promised Land's evening post-storm quiet, waiting for far off snow huffers and blowers to finally rest without anger or wrestling disappointment. How could we become a better time and place to re-enter timeless freedom of climatic light? Fearless deep enriching flight into nesting night of death's voiceless embodied surprise, floating out as in to continue WinWintered play Recreating mindlove bodylife by day regenerating Mother's Love of life ourselves each climaxing full-moon night speaking through nor'easter wind of blight redemption, bright winged mythic co-reception. If I were of his fearless content mind to fade in frosty sublime light, now would be my time to threshold off into enculturing adventures of co-relational Earthen Love, holding off my WinWin Climax re-transformation until this night's threshold, freezing away from incarnate restraint of graceless angry fear from lively shadows Losing ego's monocultured golden age to flow into disincarnate freedom full as loving tic elating grace Recomposing Earth's Golden Tribal embryo, a grand transitional opera in four snow-bound limbs of crystal-frosted dancing light co-arising pure trust resonance. He planned to freeze his death to love Earth's Paradise, echoing co-gravitating Presence. My warmth becomes distracting to this Bodhisattva Devolution into cosmic-conscious decomposition of Gaia's frosty musical comedy sung full-timed operatic pretension until cold brings time's threshold storm inviting steadier-state contemplation, love Beloved freezing absent Presence, free at last to climax polyvagal integration. Funny, now, to remember his pre-climatic drama, requiring death to embrace love's timelessly accessible freedom, when each breath re-engages sacrament baptizing love's unvoiced promise, then purging Passion Stories back out to feed Earth's ravenous trees of upside-down rooting widely growing wisdom. It's all so intensely rich and deep, frosty, shoveling snow, remembering a friend who chose to freeze his living, celebrating a dance of Full Moon dying to prehend already present EarthArising Presents. Bodhisattva breathing in Connecticut's normal natural connection business nor'eastern Paradise Transition, shoveling deeply within newly laid blanketing womb embryonic tomb. I hope our kids won't worry or ever fear that we've chosen frozen to death out here over all our over-heated operatic flame of life in chaos deconnecting home. He said he planned to freeze to death to sit with passionate Earth's Tribe, co-rising EarthMother's elating love CoPresence. Even so, I hope he misses me as I miss him.
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