Death
Deep Roots
When I die, she said, I’m coming back as a tree with deep roots & I’ll wave my leaves at the children every morning on their way to school & whisper tree songs at night in their dreams. Trees with deep roots know about the things children need.
Butterflies
He told me that the night his mother died, there were storms & far away there was purple lightning & someone left the window open & the room filled with a swirl of butterflies & she slipped out quietly without anyone noticing & I’m sure the grief was softer because of that.
Blackbird
I watched the pellet leave the gun. It was like a big black fly & it landed on the blackbird’s wing & suddenly there was a single drop of bright bright red & the voices of the world seemed farther away & I knew I could never do that again. The sounds of the other birds stopped for a moment as its song flew out to all the corners of the world & I hoped that someday I would be remembered that way.
Ancient Songs
That was the day the ancient songs of blood & war spilled from a hole in the sky & there was a long moment as we listened & fell silent in our grief & then one by one, we stood tall & came together & began to sing of life & love & all that is good & true & I will never forget that day when the ancient songs died because there was no one in the world to sing them.