Petal by petal
Leaf by leaf
All of us are opening
When flowering comes
enjoy the brief day
for after each blossoming
as petals decay
||(half in jest) Ahh, shucks! This poem is a downer!
||(flippantly) Yeah, I thought this was a book about celebration . . .
||Well, perhaps it is. Why shouldn’t we celebrate a funeral as joyfully as a wedding?
||(matter-of-factly) Without inner silence, all celebrations are noisy affairs. Birth, marriage, and death are nothing but brief markers within maya’s snare.