Sunday, March 22, 2015


I can feel Death 
hovering around me as of late
As the snow melts 
and the sun comes out
the carcasses of winter are revealed
one by one
I have always been able to feel Death
I was given an awareness 
at a very early age
of the ever present
possible impending 
As the end of this season approaches
As the snow slows it's accumulation
As the frost ceases invasion 
As the warmth blinks the sleep from it's eyes
a blurry image of a dying Gaul 
stubbornly insists on filling my view
Laying wounded at my feet
Pulling desperately on my legs
Trying to climb back up 
into the protective stance she has held for so long
I am afraid to let go of her hand 
which I have held for so long
afraid to stop leaning on the need for a body guard
afraid to let the armor fall around me
However, this battle is nearly over
This season of hibernation
that has lasted nearly all my life
has transformed in the womb of isolation
This tree
strong and tall
full of rings
has worked itself out of the ground 
roots exposed
ready to decompose
and become food for the newborn on its way
I do not need a night in shining armor anymore
Babies are soft
and vulnerable
and open
She will learn to walk and talk 
and discover the world brand new
as she is
baring the birthday suit of her soul
for everyone to see
broken or whole
whatever the case may be
For the dying Gaul is tired 
her job is done
and I shall lay her gently down
smooth the weary from her forehead 
softly close her eyes
and send her sweet dreams with a goodnight kiss
For she has earned this rest
she has earned this peace
yearning for transcendence
Death shall be a sweet release

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