Tag Archives: dying

The Pond


How the landscape changes

With the moving seasons…

No rebirth without dying

Water and cut grass

Shoulder-high saplings

And all the encounters with pain.

The piercing shrieks of white gulls 

Plunging, and us happy to disintegrate

Why is it that in nature

The lost are found, and dying

Is grand and mollifying and fearless

Like an embrace?

Blessed solitude that transcends

Loneliness and need

Feeding, soothing, nursing

The lightness of your being and

The fullness of your light.

Critters, short-legged, short-lived

Going about their business



R.I.P. Unfi!


Our dog died yesterday.

He was our first. We did’t even know what to do with him in the beginning. We learned. He lived to be 17 and a half years old – the stray puppy that had once looked like a small strange rat.
He died naturally, of old age. He was completely blind, limp and had rotten teeth that could not be extracted. He stopped eating, drinking, laid himself down on his favorite rug and passed away.
My father cried the whole evening and buried him in the countryside.
In a world where we have come to talk so casually about euthanizing people, my dad was thanking God he did not have to euthanize his dog.