PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

...and so I bled out, there in the dirt, just as I had seen happen many times during daydreaming, exactly the way I wanted, in my garden where I could decompose naturally after the coyotes, ravens & worms had their way with me. It came sooner than I had expected as I felt I still had much work to do and I re-stated once again my intention to return to this land and pick up where I've left off. The realization occurred to me that every death is a suicide of sorts, perfectly planned and executed (as are all our traumas, dramas & dharmas) in that sacred space hidden from the daily grind  - concept conceptual conception.
What a relief to drop this aching body, used & abused, ravaged by Time & Gravity, though it had served me well above & beyond the call of duty.
I stared up into the turquoise canvas of pure clear Arizona sky and there saw a silver sliver of Moon, she who cloaked in her full glory only a week or so ago bore witness to my plea for Deliverance.