When I die, let me lie down in the forest
Let the wild animals gnaw on my bones
Let the tiny animalcules burrow into this flesh, putrefying and liquidizing
Until my cells become elements
And my flesh is earth and air
And life reconstructs those components into something newly alive.
When I die my body is dead, is no more
and my consciousness is also no more
released away as a product of living tissue to become a part of the ineffable
the universe first of thought, memories and feelings of others
And later just a turn of the head or shape of an eye in my children’s children’s children.
Blessed is my life
My living body, my living self
Blessed is me, the “I” that I experience as a blade of grass, full of myself,
full of belief in my own individuality importance specialness.
I am an expression of my Mother
This planet who birthed us all
Gave rise to our species and is even now modifying and allowing us to modify ourselves and her
a member of this tribe of grasses
mere tubule of intake and output which has somehow developed sentience
And thus believes, each of us, that we are enormously important in the vastness of the universe.
And maybe we are.
Wow! Did you write this?
Yes, apparently. I found it, unedited, in a journal entry from last summer. I did google it to see if I had copied from somebody else, as I do read and handwrite other peoples’ poems. I didn’t get any hits on google so I am assuming that it actually came from my pen!
Wow, you have talent Leslie. It’s beautifully written 😀.
Gosh, thanks, Roxanne. Sometimes things spill out.