Sometimes lately I feel as if I don’t remember how to relax completely anymore, I mean really relax.  When was the last time you felt that?  This line of thinking brought me to the writing of a poem several years ago about the end of life when we finally lose the chronic bits of holding that have grabbed us over the course of a lifetime, freeing us to begin the next phase.  The poem was actually written in a sprituality workshop with one of my favorite teachers, the wonderful Gail Straub.

PREPARING FOR STILLNESS

 

When I die,

won’t you lay me gently in a mountain stream?

Face up to the sky.

Feet downstream.

Flesh wrapped in silk

and strewn with flower petals.

So that in this body’s

last

ride on Earth

I may swoosh gracefully,

finally tensionless,

over polished boulders;

be swayed lazily around

meandering bends and dips.

The pull of an eddy

may

spin me dizzy

and spit me out.

 No fear.

All the while you, my Beloveds,

and I will trust

in my eventual arrival

at the smooth and fertile delta

of Mother Sea

where bones may deeply rest

and soul take flight.

 

 

 

 First Prize

Chesterfield, NH Author’s Contest

2006