Poem by Jennifer Holmes

In Tibet they call it

“sky burial”,

And wise people

Come to sit

With the half eaten dead,

To meditate

In the charnal ground.

They practice “chod”,

Inviting hungry ghosts

To feast on them,

Unafraid of horror,

Unfraid of inevitability.

When the crows eat me,

They will talk

To each other

And fly into trees,

Their droppings

Contain me,

My body will spread

Giving life

To the grass.

-2/11/20, for Machig Labdron and the people of Wuhan