Shihuahuaco

rocks carved by the ancient Boiling River at Mayantuyacu, Peru.

“Uncertain, isn’t it?”

I hear on this sparkling morning

and I know

Death will come, even for me

To take this dear world with its leaves of light

and its ocean shores that sing

and its ocean of hearts that ache

for the great pain that sweetens them.

Death will come, darker than night

and the dawn unknown.

When I look out from this jungle perch,

I see that Life follows Death — always, always.

I trust these cycles.

But may I remember this true grief too

each time I am restless, greedy, hurried, or judging.

May I let the wisdom of no-hope

melt my heart back home.

-2023