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.