If I Come Back. . .
If I come back, let it not be as a human. I don’t want the potential of clutching hate in my heart. I’d like to come back as a hummingbird, for she has the ability to emerge solely, from the power of her wings. If I come back, let it not be as a human, for the possibility of anger, I fear, is too great a burden to bear. Let me come as a breeze that gently whispers kindness and blows away the painful sediment that weighs the heart. Let me come as rain, a river, or a waterfall and flow, without consideration, toward unavoidable mountains and precipitous plateaus. If I come back, let it not be as a human. My ability to destroy would outweigh the compassion with which a starfish heals and regenerates. Let me come as a fragrant Tobacco Flower, so I may cradle the dark, and become its repose from the bitterness. Let me be a fire fly on a vast night canvas, like percolating golden beads leaving a trail of luminescent streamers. If I come back, let it not be as a human, for my footprints may pulverize the ancestral wisdom that roots me. But if I must come back as a human, let me come as gently as a deer, for the world, now, only needs unconditional love.