As I said at the time …
Paradoxically, to meditate on death and dying is to consider life itself in its manifold opportunities. The blessings of teachers and mentors, guides and ancestors, family and friends all spring forth.
~*~
WAY BACK
six blue ridges:
five valleys in between
a procession of black carriages
to white tombstones
in a coal-dust haze
scarlet, purple, and gold
fade into rusty wheat and gray
wind in birches:
water falling on rock
Poem copyright 2017 by Jnana Hodson
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Jnana's Red Barn 