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Ariana May 18
When I die
plant me like a seed at the roots of a willow tree
so that I may be reborn amongst Her roots,
and travel to the tips of Her ever swaying leaves;
Let me fervently fight the stillness of death,
forever whipping and lashing,
with Her branches.
Alex McQuate Dec 2022
When I come back,
What do you figure will I be?
Will I come back at all?

Will I have accumulated the good-boy points to heaven?
Or will I be sent down to hang with Cobain, Jung, and Morrison?

Could I be sent back as a watch?
A Rifle?
A Brick?
I think I wouldn't mind coming back as a bird,
As long as it was somewhere warm.

Upon final judgement,
Will my heart be weighed against a feather,
And if so,
Will the scales tip at all?

Would I be reunited with old friends,
Old pets,
Old family?
If so,
Will I have to search them out?

Could I perhaps,
Be taken upon the back of a winged horse,
Sat at a great hall?
To drink and fight,
Until the final day where the fighting will be no more?

Whatever waits around that final bend in the river,
I hope that it is still many, many bends away.
Rama Krsna Jul 2022
by this man-made lake
a steady drizzle hums,
the sun, yesterday’s news
as nature’s palette turns green and gray.

staring into the gun metal sky
she nuzzles her hennaed hair
into his gandhian lap,
mesmerized by the pitter patter
she dubs, as tears from heaven.

a bow-shaped stone bridge on the near horizon,
red-eared sliders floating on the water,
the pencil thin architectural skyline,
even the floating melancholy mute swan
beckons monet to rise like the phoenix
and have a second go at whimsical life

but not me,
with a cornucopia of life-scars to show,
and a ticking clock that’s monotonously relentless,
this trip to the crease better be
the last time at bat

© 2022
Paul Butters Jan 2022
Science suggests that when we die
We become no more than skeletons and dust.
But The Bible says we will end up
With God in Heaven.
Others believe in Reincarnation:
That we promptly return
As another being –
A person, animal or whatever.

But what if God lives in each of us
One at a time
For Eternity?
What if He or She (or Whatever) foregoes those “Super Powers”
To experience Mortal living
In these frail bodies of ours?
Over and Over
Without End.

Which raises the possibility –
A reminder of “Matrix”
And just a fleeting thought
That right now I could be “The One”:
I could be God.

Paul Butters

© PB 4\1\2022.
rose hopkins Nov 2021
Like a sleepwalker
she passed through each day.
Voices chattered in her head,
Snatches of conversations
That she could not quite catch.

She dropped like a stone through her emotions
And lay in silence on the bottom.

Battered and bruised
She ached at every turn,
Or floated softly among the shadows
Guarding her spirit.

It seemed she had passed
Through a threshold of pain
That held her on the edge,
Like the new born......
And the shadows nurtured her
Behind the veil of her own consciousness,
Waiting for the memory
To rise up into the light of her being.

When it came she was filled with fire,
Warming her as it spread
through her soul,
And she knew a new knowledge
That was older than she,
Older than her previous selves ,
Older than the Earth.
Slowly,she raised herself,
Taller than she'd ever been.

Filled with courage
she stepped out,
Over the edge,
And she joined all of her other selves,
Embracing them with open arms.
Sobbing,she acknowledged herself
As she flew with her shadows
Back through time,
Back to her beginning
From whence she had first set out
In the darkness of ignorance.

The light shone so brightly,
Drawing her own light towards it
In a spinning ****** so intense
That she let go of herself,
Separating into a million points
of light as she joined the pool.
Her lights bounced off each light
They touched in an ecstasy of greeting.

Looking back ,
Towards the edge,
She watched the shadows
Nod their satisfaction
Before they turned away,
Fading into the darkness that was the Earth.
Rita,   Mado,  Thelma
L May 2021
A wolf in the bushes. A deer in the clearing.
      I know you are looking at me
        because I too am the wolf.

You know I know, because you are me in my knowing.
We are so quiet in our hiding, and yet the deer raises its head.
You sprint to me now.
Here our ever-loving, this sacred tragedy.

O beloved Ever-Creature,
Will you chase me into Godliness, or into the end of It?
I will chase you more–
My precious enemy, again and again.

Divine Ouroboros.

How fragile the leg that snaps, how ****** the neck torn.
You slip and I catch you. I fight and we die together.
The antlers today, the doe eye tomorrow.
Forever this day, no matter the way.

We are the running, the forest, the hooves and fang.
The twig that catches my leg, the corner that traps us.
God is when I **** you.
It is your teeth in my flesh, the tear in the widened eye– my precious thing, and then we do it all again.

A wolf in the bush. A deer in the clearing. You make no sound, but I know where you are. I lift my head and see you. I know you. I know you. I have always known you.
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