buried and blessed

I bless my community of beautiful sorrowful vulnerable souls

Love warriors wielding words like axes to slice through the bullshit,

Pry open to the molten core of what it means to be fully alive.

I bless our language, such a pitiful, poor substitute for the lush ocean of emotion and sensation but we try and we try to share what it feels like inside our bodies

I bless the roadkill I blow by at 70 miles per hour.

I hate the word roadkill, how dishonoring, how crude

No soul deserves to die on concrete

I’ve always felt the urge to bury the dead

Even when I was young, I’d drag a dead opossum off the unforgiving asphalt

Gently lain down onto soft bed of twigs and leaves

Then send up a blessing or a plea of forgiveness for the life claimed by the hubris of men

Bury them all

Don’t we all deserve that at the end

To be carried back into the arms of our earth mother

To flow back into essence

To be be buried and blessed

(Please), when I die bury me under a cottonwillow tree

and let the wisps of cotton tears blanket my grave in an ivory sacrament