I’m outta here,
dusting off my hands,
and I don:t have to go someplace else either.
The World is your problem now.
Good luck with it.
– Tomi G.
If You Throw Me a Wake
(aka Death Poem 2017)
If you throw me a wake
light a candle or two
Say something, tell the truth, or
at least a credible lie.
Try to keep the wisecracks to a minimum.
Play some music: not too maudlin,
but not too jolly either, in between.
Quiet phrases and subtle notes.
Toast to life with all it’s vagaries, and
to my wondrous journey with you through it.
Its pains and pleasures done.
Remember what you will. I wish to remember it all,
if only for a fleeting moment.
Cast my ashes into the ocean. Allow my remains
to mingle and dance with the currents. Seeking out
Take a moment each day to reflect on our paths together.
I walk a different path than you now,
but no so different it is unrecognizable.
I no longer depend on those rose colored glasses.
They say you should have no regrets when you go.
I still have one or two…
Does that mean I get a reprieve?
Sweet winter rain!
I fall with you,
Melting cold into the gravel path.
Sorry to leave before you were ready!
It could have been the other way.
Still, in my heart, I touch your hair and kiss your tears
The fruit trees! The scrub jays! The grasses!
Tell them I died of gratitude.
Sleepwalking when I thought I was awake.
Now I see.
Sweetness for me.
Like a wave my life briefly looks distinct in the vast ocean.
The ocean I am.
The human body truly is the entire cosmos*.
Steer gently as to not unknowingly impede what is already flowing.
(*with gratitude to Myogen Steve Stucky)
– Alice Jean
Susan Spencer once told me
In this culture death is here and life over here (gestures with hands held far apart)
But in Buddhism, they are like this….
(gestures with hands folded together)
She said more but I forget the rest.
The Buddha said when you meditate focus on the breath,
then focus on the body and then the Dharmas.
Finally go to the charnel grounds and meditate on the decaying corpse..
The Buddha said more but I forget the rest.
My Darling, some day we will be alone and then together and then alone together a thousand million times in this realm of samsaric rebirth and death and beauty.
There is more I wanted to say but I forget the rest.
Is it sinmply the end? Is it ever?
When has nothing ever begun?
To really know what dies here and now,
We need to know what was born.
Graspable ends are filled
With countless inconceivable ands
Eight and forty years –
If it goes, it goes,
But please know, dear ones,
The only thing I’m sure I don’t refret
Is every drop of love.
Now – one dance.
After – one dance.