Reincarnate
A poem
Ripened fruit returns to green and rises back up into the tree The scythe is drawn back as muscles disengage, and arms fall down relaxed, palms upon the wheat The fading farmhouse reverts back to beams and bones that stand proud beside the stark mesquites regrowing their soft leaves as their thorns recede Upon the ground covered with brown grass, bright emerald blades reemerge as the drought retreats, and the baby wrens I found become unfeathered and quieted as they regress back into their red speckled eggs
The distance between us shortens until we meet again, reexperiencing the back and forth of the dance before we drift further apart, going back towards our mothers and fathers to be reconverted to the belief that life will be good I let the dice roll back into my hands, inhaling the breath I blew on them when we began Recovering my childhood, my cheeks refill and redden where the hollows were carved out when feast became famine I continue to reverse to be reborn into the darkness, vast with opportunity and promise, reblooming backwards towards the death of a life that ended with me with you
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