Life goes on

I come to pour him 

into this empty beach.

I move toward a quiet realm

where currents scare my species

     away, there 

     I pour my precious dust.

The crabs have noticed. 

Already working 

toward this meal but that's ok.

Let them feast on him before wind 

     and water take his rest away

     and so his life goes on. 

I choose for him the shadow 

of a giant rock black as iron

     thrashing waves about it

     like a castle in a moat. 

This rock so easy to find again 

     and again.  I tell our kids,

walk past the long lagoon, 

pass the cove, the overlooks, 

keep walking,

stay close to shore, watch for a rock, 

     alone and dark and for a crowd

     of shorebirds poking everywhere.

Look for Herons flying high,

     join that merry wake.  

Walking away

The quest now is to walk away 

from fear and from the fear of fear, 

walk off into the woods and cool humidity, 

walk close to the edge of the river's rush and roar 

where the trees stop, where the borders of 

branches disappear and you hear them--

a conspiracy of ravens screeching 

but see just a flash of one black wing.

Keep in that direction, 

follow that primeval shriek 

and by the river stop, 

remove your shoes,

stand barefoot in cool water, 

your jeans damp with spray, feel now

too at ease to fear

all that's hell or even heaven.