I know I have not been posting much recently. I hope to, soon. For now, I have a little poem about life, death, and loving the creatures who cross our paths in our everyday lives.
Death on the Streets
You knew the raccoon body was as precious as your own.
So when you saw her dead on the street
you felt the sacred call to
sing her home.
You bent down to pick her up,
her intestines and blood gorged out her belly.
You winced, then felt your own stomach organs twinge.
You two are both flesh and dust, animals of life and death.
Her spirit whispered,
“Don’t waste your time.”
By that she meant, with frivolous things.
Like the incessant instagram like checks,
or pulling petals on roses
does he love me
does he not.
Instead sprinkle my body with sage and wildflower as I cross to the otherworld
she says.
And don’t you forget, we come from the same stuff.