When the Wild Die Young
In Memory of My Passing Friends
[Heart Chakra, Water]
When the wild die young and their soul
Lifts up and out of body
shunning pulse to flow,
the most silent quiet we’ll ever know
when breath stops producing heat
there’s a pause in our collective beat
A feather is added to an indigo mohawk of a mystic bird
Whose body bends
around the entire globe
An afterthought
Orbit for the lost and well-hearted
Charmolypi,
The ancient bird of bittersweet
Carries the broken soul in perpetuity
Where sorrow sits in joy’s lap
.
.
I’ve known some of these feathers
before femur capitulated to a hollowing tibia
seeding a quill,
a barb for every time that child laughed
a hooklet for every screech of agony
in search for hope’s flame
Like a magnet festooned in a lapis and cobalt whisper
Charlie, Davey, Emerson, and now Jacee’s feather takes flight
They’re there,
on the nape of the neck
Gossiping in the wind like Elijah blue fescue in June
They’re here,
In my memory
I see a veil draped over their eyes and
The desire to feel … something…anything
I still feel their love, it’s there on Charmolypi’s wing,
it’s in the breeze,
a song sung
When the wild die young