Wrong Gravity

Wrong gravity from the weight of God
in a sterilized hospital room.
There was subversion of difficult emotions
by light, placating murmurs about prayer
And being spoken to by a spirit
dressed in westernized, easily digestible
garb.
All this after a hole cut into a neck
And an evaded cancer
in the form of technical, western
medical expertise.
this came quick on the heels of
our mother’s death
and the gift of perfect temporal
connection to her and to eachother;
to that quiet room
surrounded by sitka and cedar.
It provided us a chance, bridled only by our individual
ideas of spirit
to hold her one last time
during the only time
that her heart failed her
as the blood pooled in her thighs,
and the last of her heat shimmered
out into the room.

Perfectly,

Correctly,

governed by the laws of nature
and the web of understanding
that we have
for something too complicated to know by any means.

proximity between skins

you have a duty to
the moist pink lungs
in your chest
and the red blood
flowing through your heart.
a favor for the blue
of your eyes
and yellow
subcutaneous
tissues.

Outside of any
walls there are
deep green cedar branches
and grey ocean waters
and white sea gulls
that ask only
for you to create
stark color juxtaposition
of what is inside of you
with what is outside.
Please heed this desire
for proximity between skins,
for the acknowledgement
of this critical kinship
in the brief moment
that is your life.