When Our Paths Cross

I drove home jolted by new inspiration.

My speed was slow but my mind was racing.

How can I keep up with this pacing?!

And then, our paths crossed.

You little chipmunky… you ran in front of my path, in a flash.

I hit the breaks but it was too late.

Moved to tears instantly.

I stopped in the road and looked back in the mirror to see you writhing.

I watched you, in your final fight to survive and your final obligation to surrender.

I ran to you, but knew it was a moment beyond my control.

I couldn’t leave you there.

I found the most sacred thing I could in my car…

My car, the weapon… am I or the vehicle at fault? Who’s path crossed who’s? What will blame produce?

I ran back and I placed you on the painting created just a day before.

Your blood brightened to water colors and reminded me of everything.

I brought you to a tree, in a sanctuary with statues of wild animals all around.

You lay dead in a circle of color.

The cycle of life slapped my mind into silence.

Moments before I had been swimming in anthropocentric significance.

Then, only you were significant to me.

Your life and your death.

I buried you there.

I said a prayer, to what, to whom? I don’t know.

But it is moments like these that bring me back home.

Back to Earth.

Bath to trees.

Back to the spirit that lives inside of ME.

I love you, I’m sorry, please forgive me, thank you.