Poem by Jennifer Holmes

In Tibet they call it
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“sky burial”,
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And wise people
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Come to sit
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With the half eaten dead,
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To meditate
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In the charnal ground.
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They practice “chod”,
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Inviting hungry ghosts
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To feast on them,
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Unafraid of horror,
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Unfraid of inevitability.
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When the crows eat me,
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They will talk
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To each other
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And fly into trees,
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Their droppings
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Contain me,
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My body will spread
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Giving life
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To the grass.
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-2/11/20, for Machig Labdron and the people of Wuhan