There was, as there
always is,
the Fiery Moment:
You burst into flames
at the sight of the
Angel of Death
when she walked in
what was your front door,
pointed at you, then
out at the wide wild world.
Your denial died as
you drowned in her eyes
and saw your long-time
love in need
of more than you now provide.
Then, the Time of
Reeling:
stumbling, stunned,
eyes drowning
in the haze, mind
ablaze,
the Angel now came
cruel.
You clutched at your
chest (of fool's gold)
as her claws sank deep,
tearing away hard-won
hopes and fears - more fuel for the reblooming fire
And then, when all was
burnt into past, the Time of Ash:
in you and about you,
all fell apart
and you let the pieces
lie,
let wind and passersby
scatter the bits of you
in the land you once
called home, held as your own,
and bit by
irretrievable bit, you let it all go,
grieving the lost soul.
You would have walked
away to see fairer horizons...
but neither your legs
nor your eyes had survived.
Finally, the Time to
be Fallow:
pure presence of
emptiness
patience
stillness
surrender.
First you harden, then
slowly, selectively soften,
yielding to layers of
ash,
inhaling new nutrients.
Your deep earth
gathers unto itself fertility
for another rebirth.
