Death:
The fear of it unravels me
into my own arms
away from anyone I love.
This pain and the
uncertainty of its presence
and its absence,
this is the suffering.
When I was depression,
I wasn’t scared of my demise,
it actually seemed like an easeful option at the time.
When I am my true spirit,
I grow more fearful of the goodbyes,
the breaking of the familial tides.
When I care deeply about life and the beings in it,
the thought of death decomposes me at my heart strings.
I quiver at it more often because I know the preciousness
of joy and love and connection.
The more forever we become,
the more real our impermanence.
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