Momento…

She observes in wonder the changing shades

From yellow to orange to deep red

And finally to purple and the darkest of blues

There were splashes of gold, and now silver.

The sky.

She sees them fly away and back

She can feel their endeavors

Hope, fear and the goal,

She hears their many voices in tongues myriad

- We must all survive.

She feels the wind blow

The it dust it carries, the fragrance,

The birth dust being transported to mothers,

The sensuality of birth;

She lets herself sway a little with the gusts

Indulging their attempt to carry her away,

Not quite being able to oblige completely and ignore

The powerful clasp

Of that which has the power to pull towards itself

Like the mother wants to – the earth.

She smells it. She is aware

Of all this, at once,

As her heart throbs with the rhythm of all that is around her,

And her breath falls in tune with that of the living leaves (the ones that she hears shake)

She moves from horizon to horizon,

Treading softly and moving swiftly,

She is aware.

In passion.

In the vitality of her stillness,

The corpse, as she lies, in State.

…Momento Mori.