A Life on Fire
.
The cold night air enters my lungs and embraces my body.Days shorten almost without notice.
The winter constellations of my childhoon
walk back across the sky
to the homes they inhabited
the night we first met.
I walked up the street,
an eight year old child on a cold Colorado night
with my star map in hand and
my father walking behind me, freezing.
The stars walk their yearly path, as I walk through every year.
They accompany me through the cycle of the seasons,
the cycle of the moon, the cycle of life.
.
I walk every year through fallen leaves
dead on the ground. Dead on the trees,
dead but beautiful. Beautifully dead.
Burning orange, yellow and red.
Something is alive in their death.
Something lives in their change.
In their transformation, something is on fire.
For them, it is the end, but life continues.
The source of their life, the tree,
continues to feed,
continues to feel,
continues to fuel.
Continues.
And the energy of the dead leaves,
already transforming,
readying new life for growth,
does not cease.
.
As I walk through these leaves a thought lingers on.
My grandfather's body remains, though his voice is now gone.
His brain continues to think, but verbal communication has ceased.
Lying in his bed, he waits to fall from our tree.
.
You and I, we do not speak.
Our thoughts walk past one another as all words fail.
But our energy still courses.
We are still on fire.
Like a phoenix, we burn.
.
And I pray, like a phoenix, we will return.
We will be reborn, our energy renewed
to feed and to fuel a life,
to watch the colors change,
to wind down our days walking through fallen leaves.
.
The coursing energy continues to cycle
as a new old man, holds on to sight,
holds on to breath, holds on to life.
And the energy courses and continues to cycle
as a new eight year old child
becomes aware of the stars and of the leaves,
of this life and of the tree.
No comments:
Post a Comment