This story arrives at a place of contentment

With life and death sleeping in the same bed.

Let me tell you of a storyteller.

Early in life no choice but despair. 

The mud and muck between water and dirt 

Has no stone.

Here, everything growing is sweet.

Everything dead a salty, bitter root. 

In a good story you don’t stand and stare

At death. You get your move on.

We get out on a cold road. 

Sins chasing good deeds

Every good deed making a petition

“Oh, help me live with my future!”

Smoke tells a story close 

To the ground.

Your body burns failing 

To break away.

Step by step the contradiction takes over the story, 

Living together a simultaneous great attraction 

Making clear it is also a strong repulsion.

 Much more than a pebble in your shoe

Or a heart broken in deadly rhythm. 

The resolution requires a mental revolution.

Along the way, ditches, homes, and little stores

face one another.

A particularly tiny store presents brightly painted icons.

The orange and blue iguana with a rabbit 

Snuffling the leathery curves of ancient ribs

Find peace together.

An elderly woman sells fresh loaves she baked

This morning and smiles happiness

When we come by.

Help those who follow to follow 

Their own dignity.  That part of every follower

Who navigated their mother’s womb.

When you arrive at the place

Where the road crosses a steel bridge

Painted green.   Listen!

All of land and water are speaking. 

Two sides sharing a single thread. 

Every traveler becomes weary.

When you do lay down, rest.

You will come to hear the difference in each voice.

Accept this as a major strength.

From now on the road continues far beyond

What we can imagine.

With life and death navigating together,

Expressing throughout day and night 

Their mutual gratitude.

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