Saturday, February 23, 2013

Dying feels like a good cry

Then all the hurt faded away

disappeared
as if it had never been

My blood slowed

Through all the noise of shouting
I could hear

birds singing in palace gardens

A breeze tossed
the lilies

laughing






Down I lay
my life, that I may
take it up again someday

I sleep with open eyes
I dream with my hands
the dream of a river seeking its course


backwards beyond the source
beyond infancy
beyond the beginning

climbing thro millions of roots
reborn, breaking forth
in many colored leaves
 

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