I met with death this morning.

It was a chance encounter.

One I hadn’t expected while walking over driftwood, rock and sand.

The palette and textures of this dawning day blended together

Like that of a warm cozy bed in low light,

Until I saw the deep red of its gum tissues

Holding its teeth, lock jawed together

While it both grinned, and it growled at me.

I heaved in horror,

But was also intrigued by the invitation it offered.

Distress signals filled my brain as I felt my body begin to kneel

Before this presence,

This prophet,

This pelt with half eaten entrails.

It’s eyes gauged out, perhaps by the eagle singing as it soared above me.

I envied.

I then abhorred, repressed, absorbed and accepted

The fact that I wanted a knife to cut it’s teeth out

And hang them around my neck.

I had no such knife.

I cried.

I then prayed, crawled, gathered

And covered this creature,

Marking it’s grave both on this earth and in my soul.

I met with death this morning

And it reminded me to live fully.

To grin with all that is good

And to growl

At the ghosts that have no power over

My experience of joy.

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