I've Been Dying

(Shadow Talk)

I'm like a calico who licks her body clean
to heal festered wounds gleaned at play
in dangerous neighbourhoods. I've been dying
by degrees, measured on some scale
calibrated in a heaven not ready to receive me.
So many lives expended just playing the odds.

It's not odd that I, and this new-found god within me,
shamelessly probe the shadows for a guide
to our own divinity.
Alone in their beauty, jaded moons tear
the sky and we watch, confused at the fury
of those who sit in judgment.
Should I take flight from messiahs
who are not perfect? I think not. I worship instead
perfection revealed in brilliant back-light, and learn.
I've been dying by degrees and you don't scare me,
shadow player. A kernel cast on your own wind,
you chance to land in a field, fertile and waiting
for your blessing. Fly on, so I may languish
here awhile in my fool's nirvana.

I have a real god to deal with darkness.
We don't need you. She, and I, have a way
of landing on our tongue-washed feet.

© H. Long