April 11, 2012
On death in my youth
Remembering when I first thought of death
I was six years old with a lot to fear,
All things dark were unknown, light was pure cheer,
I’d calibrate the rhythms in my breath
Conserving each moment and each small step.
Granny had said, “We all get out of here!”
Ever since I heard that, my time felt near.
It was a concept I grew to accept
Yet the light became bigger; effulgent
Darkness transformed into the unexplored
I marched forward without trepidation.
Fearlessness, though, led to loud judgements
But the freedom death gave me, it implored
The self, my breath, without sublimation.