12/28/2022
I drove by your families home today.
A temporary sanctuary fed by the tears of Great Mother.
I saw babies, oh so many angelitos playing with the bugs.
A tear wells up in my right eye.
Remembering how you too, looked young.
Not an elder and not a baby but green indeed.
What were you doing dear friend?
That caused you to fly directly into our door?
Were you just so excited the next day after the storm to meet your family in the pond across the way?
Were you taken down in flight by an angry gust of wind?
Why was today the day? Why was here the place?
When I found you, I saw fear, which was somehow shocking to me.
There was nothing I could do but make you comfortable, so I did.
Part of me expecting my prayers and calls for spiritual intervention would lead to some miracle.
But you took your last breath with your head laid down, held by the same ground you were birthed on.
I was told to leave your body, for nature to take its course.
But I know nature, itâs both beautiful and unforgiving, it would be hard to watch your beautiful existence to become something else. Like a miracle,
the next morning you were gone, likely from a bird of prey, given that you were in my back yard.
Maybe the raven that visited that exact spot the day before?
But you were gone, only a few small tail feather plumes is all you left. And as if I witnessed something tragic and holy, It is like you rose again, back to the mystery in the skies.
-An ode to a lost life, a dear mallard lost to unforgiving glass doors of our human existence.
B.
