Death in the Meadow

intimated a week before
now the message scored in my
morning body
at the edge of the bed

am I ready then
to die

yes

journey to northwest Sierra
Butte Meadows
wait without waiting
breathe green mountain moments

night
a Tibetan lama in red robes and light
wakes me in the cabin loft
a silent vision of
joy and imminence

precisely under sun
next day
by the creek
feet in deep grass
I sink into the white
see the meadow through white veils

I sink

make it to a fallen pine
can’t sit
lie on my back
arms fall out to sides
and hang in summer air
life in the body
wanes
suddenly I know
this is
the death

give

inside
white
racing white
warp speed white

focus
hold focus

light light light

surrender
light
consumed
light
energy of being
light
no one
light

how long
suspended sky time
how long
the white
how long
the lifeless body lying
no I
only is

is

(then first)
hearing
water upstream
down down down
closer closer
louder louder
(second)
body molecules
slow resurface of feeling
wake
yet no movement
(last)
eyes
slowly open
to straight up blue sky bright
mid the circle of pines
blue green radiance

a finger moves
hand
the other
slowly slowly

my body on the log
the log
take time
no hurry
what is it all
but light
in form
in color
(but light)

oh

here again
nothing different
nothing the same
all light

light

I sit up
slowly
walk through afternoon meadow
back to the tiny cabin

grass how soft
under bare feet
cool
each step

light everywhere

how alive it all
is alive

© 1998 Leslye Layne Russell

reproduced with permission

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