Baja Poem

This is a way I would like to die — like the old moon - rising up into the tides of the air…narrowing…and disappearing into the light — invisible, yet still there, solidly tending the tides, listening to, hearing, holding, touching - a thousand thousand birds, and the breathing singing prayers and conversations of dolphins, whales, bird wings, humans, oysters, winds, bones, rocks, sands – all the prayers and all the dances…
Devotedly bound to and loving this earth