for certain periods, the ground must lie fallow.
in those seasons, allow the leaves to fall and settle
to clarify the skeletal shapes:
what holds will hold
what hasn't the grip will fall away.
death is a part of life:
it is without us,
lonely, and briefly touching
and transforming our faces
in its image.
we are its reluctant masterpiece
and through it, we see
ourselves.
death is a part of life:
it is what is in us,
the inmost secret blossom
waiting and
holding itself back in dreams.
how it wants to wake us up.
for certain periods, let us lay fallow.
let the death in us do its silent work
its clarifying work,
until we can see
our edges and our hollows.
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