Poems of Death and Rebirth 2016

 

Think carefully
of what is offered
what is kept
and where it goes.
— Shintai Dungay
The sky, the stars, the ocean
the mountains
plants, animals
enlightenment.
— Michele Heifetz
The cycle is complete
only to begin once again
Wonder, awakenings, growth
The journey continues
Until
— Michele Heifetz
The year has fled
Feeling left nbehind
Looking for sparks of adventure.
— Michele Heifetz
As the sky is lit with
A thousand stars that no longer exist
May I continue to shine in your memory.
— Isaac Heifetz
This heart explodes and all its selfiness leaks out,
and all the light floods in.
And then none of that matters.
What a relief!
— Emilie Teiko
Looking back ...
I have been more dead
at times alive,
than I will be
dead
— Kim Wood-Saldana
“Golden years”
”Twilight years”
mask reality

Bodies fail,
Minds do too
friends die

What does it take to ponder Mary Oliver’s
grasshopper
What do we plan to do with this
”one wild and precious life”?

Welcome, old friend.
— Connie Ryan
I look in the mirror and now I see
A compassionate being
looking back at me.
— Monica Smith
Impermanence. Hooray!
1. Judgements gone.
2. Disagreements gone.
3. Ego gone.
What’s not to like about that?
— Nancy Ashely
Chairs in the attic
wood in the shop
gotta get at it
chop, chop ———chop

Oh, really?
— Brucy Ryan
Running my own estate sale
Slowly.
— Bruce Ryan
My life
a path
The grandchildren
follow.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
Birds soar
The sun and
moon eclipse
Me, too.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
What do I know
of death,
me who knew
so little of living.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
My heart
The clock that
marks time
soon still
— Sharon Wood Wortman
The Buddha
with her
large lap
Look for me
there.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
If I could
rewind it all and
start over
again I
wouldn’t.
— Sharon Wood Whartman
I tell myself
Lies but
death is the
truth.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
Of all the groups
impermanence
is the most exclusive
— Sharon Wood Wortman
Death a
lesson which
needs no
practicing.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
Finally,
no to do
list.
— Sharon Wood Wortman
Climbing endless steps
toward the Golden Buddha at dawn.
Snow falling, fog thickening
as the sky lightens.
Unable to see more than shapes
All is shrouded in mystery.
— Penny Mock