Lookout Mountain, Alabama
Second Tuesday in Easter 2016

They tell me i died
in a head-on collision.

i was southbound;
it was waiting.

i saw life
flash before my eyes,
not just mine.

Green and Purple,
white and red,
drawing me in
and up
and out.

i press it to my tongue,
and bite down hard.
Bone of my bone,
flesh of my flesh,
within me
and without,
myself
and other.

Foretaste
of what is
to come.

Spinning
end over end,
inebriated,
bits flying off
in every direction.
It’s okay,
it wasn’t mine.
Just a rental.

Whose blood is this?
It’s everywhere.
Gets into my eyes
so i can’t see.

All of this,
could have been
nothing:
particles gathered,
clumped dust,
but You
stretched out Your hands,
spoke the word,

and everything happened.