Saturday, September 5, 2015

Play dead

Play dead                                                                                                 

I’ve received the handoff, apparently,
deep in my own territory,

lumbering towards daylight
but they’re after me.

It’s all a mistake!
I don’t want to be here

but there it is
deep in my belly.

A shaky glimpse
of that impossibly distant goal;

lurching forward
until I’m roughly brought down,

one shrill, sharp whistle
blowing the play dead.

O child of God, existence, Meher Baba said,

is a game God began on a whim.

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