here is what I know

why I will not turn away from you

however your regard

each encounter is a precious thing

I will never know my own countenance

but I can see your face and you mine

what a gift indeed

a short-eared owl lives nearby

augur of transition and wisdom

for my reflections on walks in the field

for itself just itself purely being an owl

watchful for prey and predators alike

at home for a while in these trees

may I be as aware of the present moment

and dwell as easily in the temporary abode

a vulture vigilant on the dead tree

a lone sentinel to silent decay

no need to call a wake upon this rotting

all are watchmen unwitting or not

moulder begets beauty and corpse bugs glitter

death another step on the path

then a cataclysmic event washes over our world

we find ourselves stunned amidst debris

the illusion of permanence stripped away

in despair we try even more

root our delusions deep into the ground

with harder materials and fortified means

instead we could with newfound awareness

learn from the spider how to build gossamer webs

a flow like waves upon the shore

ceaselessly rising and falling

one crest born from another dying

ocean’s water all the same

breathe

shadows in the trails now discard their secrets

ones they’ve gathered from migrating birds

industrious squirrels, and scurrying insects too small to see

these fall to rest in colorful array among leaves

there to slip into stories of unsuspecting travelers

walkers, through-hikers, and bikers on their way too quickly

so that when they next talk in casual conversation

or even engage in discourse profound

their speech will be changed by the lives of others

intangible subtle different threads

memories woven together with those of spiders

look across the span of time

back at the child you think you were

a memory that walks beside you

a song you heard sung every day

a breakfast you ate each morning

there was a boy, a girl, a youth once

a song and a favored food

how do you know that one was you

how do you know what happened

you have never seen your own face

once I decided to throw away this world

as a glittering prize that can never be reached

I began to see the vivid greens of grass and tree,

such variegated hues, with sudden splashes of contrast

in the cardinal perched upon a limb or a robin’s bold breast

I view these now when my eyes are failing

I hear the mad chatter and scold from backyard squirrels

with ears likewise diminished for their task

as if in these shortened minutes before I depart

a veil has fallen away that once obscured

and I walk amidst light that dances with the laughter of emptiness

though I would keep forgetting, everything-everything!-is friable

a tea cup shatters but also bones

I fractured a rib in a paroxysmal coughing fit

the bedroom wall now shows a ceiling to floor crack

also my immune system despite good care

I enter into a crowded space, I leave with a chance of sickness

my recoveries slower, more incomplete

the walking stick’s bark is beginning to flake off

but it holds me upright in the steep yard

we’re both still serviceable but showing our age

one day it will break

one day I will die

perhaps we’ll do so together, companions in the bardo