Stillness is not still.
May we rise again in blueberries
that nourished the bird that nourished
the cat that nourished the coyote.
May the scatter of feathers make a pattern
for navigating the darkness.
Gravity cannot unify the family
before the car hit the guard rail
with after.
May there be some way
to enter, then crawl, then stand
in the son’s empty bedroom
everything just
as he left it.
Generation. Transmission. Integration.
May the hunger that is death that is life feed you.
May what has been taken make way
for what is coming.
May the sun lift the heavy-headed bud.
May the petals give way to the gloss of leaf
to the bare shoulder of winter.
May spring come again.
May the earth hold us rooted and send
the ground up through our feet.
May the women stand together
at the gate, hold hands
and sing.
