Samsara

I whispered in her ear one hundred and eight names of God 

one by one, as I felt the warm meat pulsing like a medusa 

and the eye half-closed benumbed like a tree, 

the beak dry and ajar in a helpless creak.

Death made its way through her feathers, 

perhaps seeking some kind of shelter inside her wings. 

I whispered in her ear one hundred and eight names of God 

while Death was still there singing her song - a fresh dark silence that

married me in mourning. 

She died gracefully, with her head arched in submission 

and the claws opened with possibility, 

while the others watched and circled us in a sad ritual 

not knowing that she was no longer there 

not knowing that she already became 

the unfurling seed inside a soft mother.