I don’t know what lay before me.

I know it is something I have never met.

Or do I even know that?

I watch a baby bird dancing on the deck outside,
seeing nothing but what is in front of it.

I wish I could be like that bird, darting
here and there, gleefully unaware
of the natural progression of things.

Maybe death is where I am introduced
to the song of my life.

Maybe there are lawyers, defending my life’s
actions before the almighty.

Maybe God is a chainsmoker, who
sits on a park bench ever morning,
unconcerned about much.

I wish I could dive with the wind, and be unconcerned
about the future.

I wish I could lift up, and soar above the problems
of my life, solving them through a lack of awareness.

Or, sleep through it all like a bear.

I look at the peace of my sleeping cat,
and seriously wonder if we humans
have anything on animals when
it comes down to happiness.

I believe my cat was made
in the iamge of God.

I believe every snowflake was too.

I believe the wind is God breathing

I believe that whatever you believe
is true, in this dimension, or the next.

I also believe that I know exactly nothing,
and my mind is clean and blank
as a cloudless sky in the heart of november
where sweet, coloful deaths are born.

Maybe the birth of my death
will be colorful and beautiful too,
and you can turn the tapestry
I leave behind into something
beautiful forever.