Sometimes
I find it necessary
to meditate on being dead.
I’ve never been dead,
but I can imagine.
How different can it be
than my state of being
ten thousand years ago
or a hundred for that matter?
I have no recollection,
even though I know I am now
a re-collection of stuff existing then.
How can you appreciate the magnitude of Being
unless your Being is shoved hard against naught?
Then,
then,
only then
does Being intensify.
A lost wallet.
A broken foot.
The death of the neighbor next door.
Searching.
Limping.
Sending the widow a sympathy card.
Life is a journey toward the horizon
where we all disappear chasing time.
Can you feel the difference,
alive versus dead?
If not,
go to an edge and be still.
Never mind,
I have good news and bad,
an edge is coming toward you.
2016