Consumed by Death

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

Sometimes Death leaves us

there, at roadside,

without apology

or explanation.

Stillness resides in nothing

but our form,

all else whizzes past

with agendas.

The palm of my right hand

has known the pulse of the

very last heart beat

beneath feathers and fur,

and skin that I watched wrinkle

for twenty-seven years.

This is my decision:

I don’t want to be abandoned

by Death –

I want to be devoured.

I want to be taken into

Death’s wet, gnashing mouth

as a wanton carcass,

insatiable in my desire

to surrender.

I want to be consumed

in my entirety,

to be nothing to which

to attach a eulogy to.

I want to depart this world

with less than I brought

into it.

When the last morsel of me

can be described as nothing

more than the last tidbit

swallowed by Death,

then, I will know,

then, I will know,

yes, I will know,

My life had been juicy enough.

© 2012-2014/Jamie K. Reaser
From "Coming Home: Learning to Actively Love this World"
To be published by Homebound Publications in October 2015