In These Five Remaining Days
In these five remaing days, I see
I've spent my life bellowing like a mule
feeling broken beneath a burden
that was mine to learn to carry
or the weight of another's I could not ease.
In these four remaining days. the robe
that has been my body, revels on
its own unraveling. Inside, a hummingbird
hovers; half-inside a flower, then zips
away, stitching the sky with iridescence.
In these three remaining days, I am still,
knowing what ripens below, soon breaks
through the duff, finds some light--
a rose-colored mushroom, quietly
glistens in the redwood mist.
On this, the second to last day, I ride
a riptide out to sea, find myself
fixed again to the ocean's umbilicus.
Rocked upon her heaving breast, I taste
the briny tears we share, let go my thirst.
On this, my final day of living,
with every breath, I make a plea
for the chance to hold aloft a hundred more
burdens, a friendship to sip, a forest to sit in,
singing thank you, thank you, thank you!