"Perceptions of the Interior"

You know it isn’t the end.

You are still breathing after all.


But this living

in an outworn time

can also take its toll.


For the five-hundredth night

you’ve woken up in a body

that doesn’t quite

feel like your own.


There is a pain in it

that doesn’t go away

as if it is sourced

deep in the pained Earth herself.


Out of step

with natural flow

bodies of all kinds

can seize up.


Ligaments,

heart muscles,

heart-minds

can become hardened,

in ways, in places,

that once knew

a feline suppleness.


Lest we all turn to stone,

we must stop trying to cling

to what has already passed on.


You know it isn’t the end.

We are still breathing after all.

Breezes are blowing.

Leaves are falling.

There’s a spritely amber glow

trying to be remembered in us.


Elders from the old school

are offering their teachings

yet again.


Drop.

Rest.

Bloom again next year.


And beneath it all,

the unseen river

flows on and on.


image: Sajad Nori