i have died so often

i have died so often,
i learned to live.
in my dreams, a child,
flying through skies

i fell and fell and fell
waking before i hit ground.
i learned to land
softly, dreaming.

i learned to hold
gravity within dream,
and what is life, what,
i ask, but dream,

dying, flying, hitting
my head on floors
and walking through
doors with no keys,

passing through, off
and on holding gravity
walking beyond rules
and listening to all,

the flowers and trees
growing in silence,
the streamlets burbling,
the breath of this earth

not beyond but within.
o how precious a moment
of touch when i know
it will all go,

how soft a kiss
in the wilderness,
how sweet a smile
in bitter times

and no beauty
will shine as bright
without its shadow,
the presence of  dark,

without the weight, the
bliss of impermanence.
all will be transformed,
and the forest will be sea.

the bees will be fishes,
ashes will grow seeds,
and not one stone will
remain on the other.

my love, i ask you,
come with rain, wash
me, cleanse us,
brush the prisons, the walls,

show me, lead me,
pure and clear and green
and let me rest with you,
holding gravity, for a time,

hold your breath, hold me,
though we will go, go, go:
now we are here, there is
no time now, only wind.