Fire:

The flames curl around me
Like a black leopard with white spots,
Sizzling, searing,
Speaking in many voices
Feeding my soul
Like blood fed my body.

Release:

The coals burn low by evening
They crackle and hiss
Stirring ancient momories
That put my mind in a trance
And throw my body in the air
To float over trees and houses.

Vision:

The trees sing like a choir in the wind
I see them raise their arms
And lift their faces to God.
I hear their ancient prayer--
The one I heard in the fire.

Matter:

My ashes gather in a small, gray cloud
That hangs and rises slowly
Dense, then dispersing,
Thinner and thinner until it disappears
Over the water
That was my beginning, the dust
That is my end.

Spirit:

And all that remains
Is the running water with its voices,
The trees with their chorus
And the invisible dust
With its silence.