ring the living bell

to reclaim
all that was undone
to weave it back
with what is new
to trust in the tapestry
of their connection
not just to ride it,
to let it cloak you

this period of my life
will be known as the one
i skimmed the deep dark sea
(but aren't those many?)
tossed and turned
riptide-ridden 
and thrust to the floor
lungs nearly all filled
and flung into coral
nibbled by fish
abandoned as another
piece of treasure or trash
left to dissolve amidst
the other living things

people say things like
"half-dead" and "half-alive"
which makes me feel like 
death can be a living state,
too, if we are familiar
with it's qualities-- of course
we can't entirely know
though feeling echelons
of our psyche's quiver
and sink, bodies fold 
and shed and emerge anew
sensing, expanding, shrinking

here i come, like a crocus in spring
seahawk soaring for fresh fish,
something to enter my bill,
here i see myself again, finally
shaken out, re-entered, 
spun & spun, the cycle complete
if we have died, let us honor
that earth emerges, not only
as before, but with currents
of what was, recycled, 
some of the previous elements
coming through in their new
old ways and life meant to be 
seen melding in, too, it will
surprise you, birth is a hard thing
to trust, especially when it's
your own, again and again
becoming towards your death,
a living dance