like glassy black pearls,
I know now what I
should have done last night– that and tuck under
her paws, like in sleep
because by morning
the stiffness is making it
for her to neatly fit
into the hole we dug,
and now earth
has fallen into her wide eyes.
But it is too late for that now,
so we cut flowers
and fill her grave
with the loose cool dirt,
an honor to all life,
by serving in death.
By Jason Weaver, 2013
Author’s note: Pearla, a friend’s dog, fell into a heavy sickness that fortunately did not last long and she passed on Sunday night. I was with her in her final moments and helped to bury her the next moring. I feel it is so important for us to honor life by serving in sickness and death. Whether animal or person, all living beings share the same ultimate experience, cessation of life. Rest peacefully, Pearla.
Today, she wakes
by the pale blue light of morn,
tired, and frail, and worn to the bone.
as she does all of her days now,
she will set foot to the hills,
her silver hair put in a scarf of silk,
and bearing the wounds of her years
in an old and rusted pail made of tin
that digs into the
thin of her weary hands.
She will walk to a spot by the stream
where the waters run
silent, and clean, and still.
It is here, in a spill of sun
that she will lift and pour
from her bucket of sorrow,
her soul in a wash of shallows,
knowing that tomorrow
there will be ever more.
by Jason Weaver, 2013
Thanks to Dverse Poet’s Pub for the inspiration, written in response to poetry prompt “body of water.” Come link up or check out what others are writing! ~peace, Jason