the vulture is too slow
don't wait til I'm dead
send down the hawk
to dive bomb
like a P-47 Thunderbolt
and pierce my heart
with his beak
awaken me
from this sleep
that I may be purified
release a lifetime of
words unspoken
tears uncried
heroic deeds undone
and an ocean of fear
sadness and shame
into the healing earth
to become sweet
and feed the flowers
violets and buttercups
that a passerby may say
"Look! There's something unusual
about those flowers...
do you think it might rain?"
-
Paresh