Poetry

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. 
 DSC_1367
 

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